


Guns and Roses

by Queerbutstillhere



Series: Damian Wayne and Jonathan Kent [4]
Category: DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, Robin (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superboy (Comics)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Help, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Mafia Batfamily, Protective Damian Wayne, Triggers, Violence, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:34:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerbutstillhere/pseuds/Queerbutstillhere
Summary: Mafia AU ~The Wayne and Kent family are both parts of a mafia called the League of Justice. Jonathan Kent, a top leuitenent, and one of the best at what he does, intimidation, gets himself in over his head when he agrees to help Damian Wayne rescue someone from the rival mafia, the League of Shadows.~warnings~ there is some violence but I wasn't sure if it qualified as "graphic"





	1. The Meeting

"Why me?"

"I don't know, son, he's never requested anyone specific before….. but then again he's never made an order of this…. gravity before."

Jon sighed, staring at Clark and tapping his fingers against the table, making a dull thud every time a finger fell. The mission would definitely be risky. For so many reasons.

"Are…. Are you sure we can trust him?"

"Yes, Bruce has had him running around for three years now, he's had him tested almost every month. Bruce trusts him, so I guess we have no choice but to do the same….. but if you wish, you can refuse, I'll tell Bruce that it was my choice, that I wouldn't let you accept."

Jon just shook his head with a sigh. "No, he asked for me, so he'll get me. What about this Maya person we're going after. Why does he think she's telling the truth?"

"He claims she's not loyal to the Shadow's. That she was never there for the league, but she was loyal only to him. She reached out and told him she was going to be executed and begged for him to help."

"Sounds like a trap."

"And it probably is."

Jon sighed again, massaging his temples.

"Here's the list of the items you are to gather, he wants you there tomorrow evening so you can leave Wednesday morning."

Clark held out a sheet of notepaper, Jon took it, glancing over it before nodding, and looking up at his father. Clark had definitely had better times, he had dark circles, his hair was graying, he looked tired, and Jon knew there were scars covering his body that he tried to keep hidden. Jon ran a hand through his hair, glancing up as his mother, Lois, walked in.

"Boys, I thought I told you to leave work at the office," she said, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Sorry, honey, it just came up."

Lois frowned, glancing over Jon's shoulder at the list as she passed. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, gotta go to Gotham to do a job."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it shouldn't take too long." Jon exchanged a glance with Clark, who didn't say anything.

"Uh-huh, alright well go get the casserole out for me," Lois said as she set plates down on the table. Jon nodded and left to follow orders.

Work. That's what Lois preferred to call it, she wasn't a fragile woman, by any means, hell, Jon had seen her stab a man before. But she still preferred to call what Jon and Clark did as "work". The League of Justice(a stupid name in Jon's opinion) was a mob, a mafia organization, if you wished, they had no Godfather, but rather a board of the top people from almost every town the League was in. Jon knew almost everyone on the board, Bruce Wayne, Oliver Queen, Diana, Barry Allen(he was new, a little soft, but nice), Arthur Curry, and J'onn J'onzz. There were a few others he hadn't met yet. Oh and his father was on the board.

They mostly dealt in drugs and money laundering, that sort of thing, and even went out of their way to help the helpless(as Bruce said). Jon couldn't count the amount of sexual assaults he had stopped. They didn't really do Guns for Hire or anything like that, but of course they had plenty of assassin's. Jon was mostly a gopher. Go do this, go scare that dealer. Random person hasn't payed debt yet? Go deal with it. He was only 21 and had already killed two men…. Not that he liked talking about that. He had started up with the League after he graduated, being told that if he wanted to go to college and not get involved he could. He didn't.

So now, as he sat through a very quiet dinner with his parents, Jon was sat musing over where he was going to get the supplies he would need. Jesus this guy was demanding. And very specific. He hated rescue missions, especially when they took him into the heart of their rival mob, The League of Shadows. While the League of Justice was like the good guys of Mafia, the League of Shadows was the exact opposite. They were almost exclusively guns for hire, dealing in the hardcore drugs and letting their people run amuck and do whatever the hell they wanted. The League always had a Godfather, but almost no one knew who it was because none of the Shadow grunts they caught would rat. Safe to say Jon hated the League of Shadows. Mostly because they had tried to kill him and his family over 20 times, not to mention some of his best friends.

After supper, Jon drove into town, gathering supplies for the next few days. He was out for a few hours, not getting home until midnight. He had so many guns shoved in a compartment under the backseat of his truck. He packed a bag of his own clothes, including his working clothes, before crashing. It was almost 2am when he finished showering and eating and finally got to bed. His body naturally woke him up at 8am so he could go do chores, seeing Clark in the kitchen as he stumbled out the door. They grunted to each other. Jon took a half an hour to do all his farm chores before going inside and getting coffee and some eggs. 

He got dressed in casual, unsuspicious clothes, jeans, a t-shirt, one of his favorite flannels, and his combat boots. He double and triple checked everything on his list before grabbing his phones, personal and work, and saying goodbye to his parents. Five minutes later he was on the road to Gotham. The drive, nearly 12 hours, was boring and uneventful. But Jon did tense up every time he saw a cop car. Once he almost got pulled over, a cop came up to him, lights on and sirens blaring, he pulled over to the side of the highway he was on, but the cop zoomed past, pulling over the person in front of Jon. Jon let out a tense breath, slowly pulling out and passing the two cars on the other side of the highway.

He got to Gotham at 10:09pm, and from there he drove to Wayne Manor, where he was supposed to spend the night. The butler, ever kind Alfred, opened the gate for him and met him at the front door. Jon grabbed his backpack with all his personal items and walked up the few steps. The kind elderly butler was waiting, door open.

"Mr. Kent."

"Alfred, right?"

"Yes, sir. Master Wayne is waiting for you in the sitting room."

Alfred closed the door behind Jon and started leading him through the mansion. Jon had been there before, but hadn't been much further then the main sitting room and the dining room. Alfred led him to the one room with the light still on, stopping outside the door and offering to take his bag. Jon handed it over and walked in, expecting to see Bruce Wayne sitting on the sofa. He wasn't so fortunate.

Sitting on a white sofa, reading an ancient looking book, was a man who Jon had never seen before, but knew exactly who he was. He barely glanced up from his book, his green eyes scanning over Jon, taking in his farm boy appearance. His hair was raven black, cut in a fade with a bit of a quiff. He looked to be part middle-eastern, and was nearly a spitting image of Bruce Wayne when he was much younger, except hotter. This man was so attractive, Jon would've called him a god if he was religious. He was wearing black sweatpants and a grey hoodie, and somehow still seemed rather fancily dressed. Jon noted faintly that he had a scar across one eyebrow that caused a section of hair to be missing, but it didn't look bad. 

If he had to guess, he'd say the man was probably 5'11, and despite what appeared to be a slender form, he could probably bench Alfred if he wanted to. Jon was still stood in the doorway while he observed all this, and while the man observed him. Neither spoke for a long time, and finally the man looked back at his book for two minutes before closing it, setting on a table beside him.

"Jonathan Kent, I assume?" He asked, his voice was smooth, all the inflections of a more sophisticated accent, nothing like the rough tone of a Gothamite.

"That's me…. And I assume you are."

The man stood holding his hand out. Jon stepped closer to shake it.

"Damian Wayne."

So Jon had been right, he noted with a small satisfaction as he shook Damian's hand that he had been right about the man's strength, he noted the calluses along the inside of his hand, and up closer there were smaller scars scattered around Damian's face, and even one along his throat barely centimeters from his artery. They locked eyes, searching for the answers to their questions. Damian's eyes were cold, a thin layer of disinterest hiding years of trauma. Damian gave a bemused smirk before dropping his hand, sitting back down and motioning to the armchair across from him.

"Did your father inform you of the task we have?"

"He told me I was to assist you in extracting Maya Ducard from the grips of the League of Shadows and bring her to safety."

"That is the blunt version."

"I'm a blunt kind of guy."

Damian hummed slightly at that. "What exactly do you do, Kent? Within the League, I mean?"

"Oh, I suppose you would call me muscle. I deal with the people who step out of line and settle debts. I guess I'm one of dad's top lieutenants," Jon said with a shrug, noticing with a faint annoyance how hick his accent sounded.

"So you don't deal?"

"No. Jesus, no, we get lower class people to do that."

Damian nodded in consideration, as if he didn't already know all this information.

"Your skillset is in Hand-to-hand, correct?"

"Yeah, hand to hand, street fighting, interrogation…."

"Good, those will all be useful to me."

"Mr. Wayne-"

"Just Damian is fine."

"Okay, Damian…." Jon started, then paused, making sure he had Damian's full attention. "Why should I trust you?"

"I don't really think you were given much of a choice," Damian answered boredly.

"Actually, yeah, I was. I can get up and walk out that door right now and drive back home. You know why? Because I was asked to do this job, not ordered. Because my father gave me the option of passing it off to someone less important. But I took it anyway."

Damian's eyebrow, the scarred one, shot up. But he didn't say anything for a moment. 

"So, why on Earth should I trust you? Because for all I know, you could be dragging me into the League territory so they can kill the son of one of their rivals."

Damian sighed. "Do I need to fetch my father's polygraph tests and psych eval results for you?"

"Damian, you seem like the time that could quite easily lie on a polygraph test and get away with it."

"I assure you, I did not. I have no desire to return to the League." Damian stood, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it and the shirt underneath off, turning his back to Jon. "They have tortured me into submission for too long."

Jon nearly gasped out loud at the thick white scars that covered Damian's back, some clearly from a whip, some long and jagged from being sliced by a knife. Damian turned around, hands on his hips, and Jon's eyes, forcefully pulled off Damian's pecks and abs, went straight to what he assumed was a bullet scar on the left side of his chest, insanely close to where his heart should be. Dark pink starbursts were scattered in several places, signs of electrocution. More scars from lashes covered his stomach and Jon could see similar marks on his arms.

"Jesus."

"I finally escaped five years ago, spending two in hiding before finding my father and approaching him, not aware he was one of the leaders of the League of Justice," Damian explained, standing in front of Jon, still shirtless. "I have worked day and night, fighting for the right to be called a Wayne. So when I say you can trust me, believe me, I am loyal to my father, and thus I am loyal to his Mafia."

Jon nodded, accepting the convincing speech. Damian pulled his shirt and hoodie back on, remaining standing as he scanned over Jon.

"Alfred!" He called, and only ten seconds later, the butler appeared in the doorway. "Please give Mr. Kent dinner and show him to a room. I'm sure he'll be wanting to eat and rest in preparation for the next few days."

"Yes, Master Wayne. Will you be leaving early?"

"Yes, Alfred."

"I will have breakfast prepared."

"Thank you, Alfred."

Alfred turned to Jon, waiting for the man to stand and follow. He did, and was led into the kitchen, where Alfred gave him a hearty portion of soup, cleaning up while Jon sat by himself at the huge oak dining table. After Jon was finished, Alfred led him up the huge staircase to the second floor, and then down the hall to a room where his backpack was already sat on the bed.

"The bathroom is just down the hall, the only open door, please leave the door open when you leave it."

"Alrighty. Thank you, Alfred."

"Of course, Mr. Kent."

Alfred backed out of the room, closing the door as he left. Jon pulled off his boots, leaving them by the door, he grabbed his toothbrush and contact stuff, walking down the hall and getting ready for bed, when he got back to the room, he plugged in both of his phones, stripped down to his boxers and crashed in the incredibly soft bed, passing out nearly immediately.


	2. Road Trip

Jon shot awake, hearing the door open, it was still rather dark in the room, but he could see light beginning to peek through the blinds. He didn't move, staying in his sprawled out position on his stomach, taking a moment to assess the fact that he wasn't in his own room, and remembering he was in Gotham.

"Mr. Kent. Master Wayne requested me to wake you."

Jon pushed himself up on one arm, looking back at Alfred, who was standing in the doorway, looking unamused.

"Oh, Alfred, thank you."

"Breakfast will be ready shortly."

Jon grunted in response, once the butler left, he stood, gathering clothes for the day and taking a quick shower. He got back to the room, packing all his things back up, now dressed in jeans, a tight blue t-shirt and his black leather jacket. He walked downstairs, following the smell of food and the sound of voices into the dining room.

"Jon! Good morning!" A voice called, Jon glanced around, eyes landing on Bruce who smiled at him.

"Good morning, Bruce." Jon set his backpack down by the door and walking to the chair Bruce had pointed out, next to a man he recognized as Tim Drake, and across from Damian.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah, a whole day of driving knocked me out."

Bruce laughed, looking back down at his newspaper. Jon looked up at Damian, who was wearing a black long sleeve shirt which was rather tight on him, defining all of his muscles. He was reading the same book from the previous night, which Jon realized was in some foreign language. Jon glanced around the table, Selina Kyle, or rather Wayne now, was sat to the left of Bruce and next to Damian, she was looking at her phone, uninterested in whatever was happening and why there was another boy at her breakfast table, Tim had some sort of a tablet sat on top of the table, typing furiously at some code. Bruce was still reading his newspaper, and Damian his book, which left Jon the only one not entertained by something. He pulled out his phone and started responding to texts he didn't think he'd get to for the next week.

"Alright, books and papers and devices down," Alfred called as he walked into the room with two trays of food.

Everyone set their things to the side, thanking Alfred and beginning to pile food on their plates. Jon waited until the Wayne's were all done before beginning to get his own.

"Mr. Kent, what can I get you to drink?"

"Um, coffee would be wonderful," Jon said, glancing over at Alfred, who smiled and nodded.

Jon was eating his waffles and bacon in silence, thinking about a task he forgot to do before he left, telling himself to text his dad later and fess up. He barely glanced up from his musings and locked eyes with Damian, who had been apparently watching him for a while if the amused smirk had anything to say about it. Jon paused mid chew to blink back at the man, who said nothing, just sipped his coffee, keeping eye contact.

"Jesus, Dami, stop it," Selina said, having caught on to what was happening.

"Stop what."

"You know what, cut it out."

Damian just shook his head but broke eye contact with Jon, looking over at his father.

"Did you get the things I requested?"

"Yes, they're downstairs waiting for you."

This place had a basement?

"Good." Damian finished the last bite of waffle and stood, looking to Jon. "Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes."

With that he turned and walked away, Jon watching his retreating from, eyes definitely not trained on his ass. He could appreciate a good body every once in a while!

"Is he always like that?"

"Brooding? Annoying? Cocky?" Tim asked, chugging his coffee just as Alfred placed another in front of him. "Usually yeah."

"Tim," Bruce said in a tired voice, like this was a conversation that happened frequently.

"You're gonna have a fun few days with him, Jon-boy."

Jon shook his head, getting another waffle and finishing his coffee. He thanked Alfred for the breakfast and found the downstairs bathroom, brushing his teeth and taking a piss before going to wait for Damian, five of his fifteen minutes left. He decided to head out to his truck and put his bag up. When he came back in, Damian had two bags sat on the floor by the door, as well as one over his shoulder. Jon definitely didn't miss the two katanas crossed over his back, or the sniper rifle case that Bruce was handing the man.

"Ah, Kent, good. Ready to go?"

"Yeah….." Jon picked up the two bags, deciding not to question what was in them and took them out to the truck.

Damian followed momentarily. Jon stashed his swords and rifle with his guns, telling Damian it was just a safety precaution and then putting their bags in the backseat as well, Jon got in, grabbing his burner phone from his backpack and shooting Clark a quick text that he forgot to deal with a problem before starting the truck and looking at Damian.

"Ready to go?"

"As I'll ever be."

"Where exactly am I going."

"Head East out of Gotham."

Jon nodded and started driving, every once and a while, Damian would tell him to turn someplace, or get on the interstate, but otherwise, it was just driving in silence, other then the radio softly playing in the background. Clark called at one point and Jon talked with him as quietly as possible, since Damian didn't need to know all the details about the Metropolis section.

"Yeah, I meant to do it yesterday but then I got handed this and didn't remember to tell you or do it before I left."

"It's fine, Jon, I'll get Kara or Connor to handle it, you just focus on your current job and make it home alive."

"I will, dad. When have I not?"

"Uh, that one time Connor had to rush you to the urgent care because you got shanked by a homeless druggie."

"Oh my God."

Clark laughed. "I should let you go, focus on your driving, don't do anything illegal….."

"Dad."

"I know, I know. Just don't get pulled over. We don't have any influence over the cops up there."

"I knoowww."

"Bye, Jon. Love you."

"Love you too, pops."

Jon heard the line go dead and stuck his phone back under his leg, not looking at Damian, who had been reading for the past two hours. They had been driving for four.

"Shanked by a homeless druggie?"

"You heard that?" Jon asked with a wince.

"I heard pretty much the whole conversation."

Jon tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, glancing at Damian, who had closed his book and was looking at Jon, sunglasses perched on his nose. Jon looked back forwards, at the interstate he had been on for the past two hours.

"How'd that happen?"

"He was about to overdose and I was trying to stop him. He shanked me with the needle, yeah gross I know, and got it in pretty good, I started reacting pretty badly to whatever the hell he was shooting up with. Connor, my uncle, had to rush me to the hospital," Jon explained, figuring it wasn't his most embarrassing moment.

"Sounds painful."

"Yeah, well, as someone who doesn't do drugs it only convinced me further."

Damian eyebrow raised. "You are in the mafia but you don't use?"

"Yeah. My highschool used to spring surprise drug tests on the students, and since I was already in the hot seat for my dad being suspected as being in the mafia, I had to play it safe. So I never started, and still haven't."

"Huh."

Damian looked down at his phone.

"Do you?" Jon asked.

"Use? Not anymore."

They went silent, Damian texting away quietly, looking serious.

"Hey, I gotta pull off and get gas, you wanna get lunch while we're stopped?"

"Yeah, might as well."

Jon pulled off the exit ramp he had been seeing signs for. They got gas and drove to a restaurant, eating quickly and then bailing. Jon was rather surprised to discover that Damian was vegan, but didn't comment on it, figuring he didn't really want to have that conversation. They drove for six more hours before stopping for supper, and then continuing to drive, stopping at a hotel around 10pm. Damian had apparently already reserved a room, because he walked up to the check-in desk and then had room keys within two minutes. They were on the third floor and their room was close to the stairs. Jon instantly got in bed, while Damian took a shower, when he camp out, hair wet and shirtless, Jon let his eyes follow him, scanning over the scars and well defined muscles, but looking away before Damian could catch him staring.

The next morning, he was woken up by Damian movie around and getting dressed. Jon just laid in bed, not alerting Damian that he was awake as he dozed lightly, knowing he'd have another boring day of driving. He finally got up when he heard Damian close the bathroom door, quickly getting dressed in his jeans and a shirt, sitting on the bed with his glasses sat on top of his head as he waited for Damian to come out. He was too tired for this. Nearly five minutes later, Damian exited the bathroom, looking perfect and wide awake, and Jon shuffled his way in, washing his face and putting his contacts in.

They walked down to breakfast, Jon beelining his way to the coffee, ignoring actual food in order to get the steaming hot beverage. He found a table and sat at it, waiting for Damian to find him before going to get his own food. They ate in silence, Jon realizing that they hadn't spoken a single word to each other all morning. That was fine. He didn't really feel like talking. After they ate, they went and packed their things and checked out, getting back on the road and driving. Jon disassociated at some point and didn't resurface until he suddenly he heard police sirens.

"Kent!" Damian snapped in front of Jon's face, Jon blinked and hit the brakes, pulling over to the side of the highway.

The police cars zipped past them, followed by two ambulances and a firetruck.

"What the hell?!" Damian exclaimed, turned sideways in his seat to stare at Jon.

Jon glanced at the radio clock, his eyes going wide, 12:09pm.

"Oh Jesus." Jon ran a hand through his hair, staring at the clock.

"Kent, drive!" Damian snapped, Jon followed the order, taking his foot off the break and carefully pulling back onto the highway.

He had absolutely no idea where they were. And it was freaking him out.

"Uh…Damian… where exactly are we."

"Arkansas……"

"Fuck."

"What happened to you."

"Um…. I…. Well bluntly I dissociated. I have absolutely no recollection of what happened for the past…. Five hours."

"What the hell."

"Yeah."

"Does this happen often?" Damian asked warily.

"No. It's pretty rare. And I've never had it happen while I was working."

"Why does this happen?"

"We think it's just a coping mechanism related to PTSD," Jon answered, focusing on the road. "Just like how I know certain events have happened to me, but I have no recollection of them."

Damian nodded as he considered this. "Just don't…. Don't do that again, we're in League territory, I need you to focus."

"I won't…. Just keep me entertained and I won't space out."

"Entertained? How so?"

"I don't know, keep talking, I gotta stay focused on the present and having conversations always helps that."

Damian rolled his eyes. "I'm not your personal show, Kent."

"Well you just told me to stay focused and I'm trying to but it'll be a lot easier if I have someone distracting."

"Well what do you expect an ex-assassin to talk about?"

"How about our mission that I know shit about?"

Damian spent the next hour explaining what exactly they would be doing, how they were rescuing Maya and getting out alive. They pulled into the driveway of an old farmhouse, Damian instructing Jon to park behind the garage, out of view of the road. They grabbed their bags and Damian led him to the backdoor, knocking on it and waiting patiently, shushing Jon every time he tried to ask a question. Nearly two minutes later, the wood door pulled open, leaving just a screen door between the two men and the person inside.

"Damian, is that you?"

"Yeah,"

"Jesus, I thought you were dead!" The person, a redhead with blue eyes, threw the screen door open, practically tackling Damian.

"That was the point," Damian said, yet hugged the person back.

"Fuck, why are you here? Ra's will kill you!"

"Maya contacted me, she's in danger," Damian explained.

Jon stuck his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, waiting to be told who this was and why they were there.

"Oh god, what do you need?"

"Just to spend the night, maybe tomorrow."

The red headed nodded, looking up and locking eyes with Jon. He watched as the self defense mode activated in the man, his hand tightening on Damian's arm.

"Dami, who is this?"

"Oh, this is Jonathan Kent, he's from….. well he's from the League of Justice. He's helping me rescue Maya."

The man tensed further, Jon's hand tightened around the switchblade in his pocket, preparing for a fight. They eyed each other, Jon deciding he could probably win in a fist fight, the guy wasn't that muscular. Jon's eyes flicked to Damian momentarily, who caught the question in his eyes.

"Kent, this is Colin Wilkes. My closest friend from the League."

"And why are we here if he's part of the League," Jon asked, voice tense.

"Because he'll help us."

Jon looked back at Colin.

"Anything to help Damian, or Maya for that matter. Come on, let's get you guys inside."

Colin stepped away from Damian, holding the door open and motioning for them to go inside. Damian walked in confidently, and Jon followed warily, hand still on his knife, ready to whip it out and stab Colin if necessary. Colin locked the doors behind them, flicking on a light for the kitchen they were now stood in.

"Kent, relax, you can trust him," Damian said softly.

"I'm still not sure I can trust you, let alone someone you just told me still works for the League of Shadows. You know, the mob that would love to get their dirty hands on me?" Jon hissed back.

Damian gave him a bemused look but didn't say anything further, looking around the house.

"Alright, Damian, fess up. I wanna know everything. Ra's told everyone Talia slit your throat, hell she even confirmed she had held you while you were bleeding out," Colin said, arms crossed, leaning against a counter.

"Well she did her best." Damian reached up and tapped his throat, right along the long scar on his throat. "But it was all just a plot for my escape."

"She knew?!"

Damian shrugged, jumping up to sit on the counter. "I should probably start at the very beginning."

"Yeah, Probably."

Jon looked over in interest, his curiosity getting the best of him, he had never been told this story.

"So, Colin, as I'm sure you know, I tried to leave….. six or seven years ago now. I only made it for about a day before Talia found me and dragged me back," Damian began explaining. "Bluntly, they tortured me for days, until I was on the verge of death and making wild promises to save my own life. I served Ra's loyally for nearly a year and then made my second attempt. I was captured again, and while I was waiting for my inevitable execution, Talia approached me.

"She offered me the chance of a lifetime. She would help me fake my death so I could leave, as long as I would keep my mouth shut. She told me about my father, how to find him and prove that I was his child. I accepted, figuring that if she changed her mind and killed me anyway, it would be the same fate that was awaiting me. She slit my throat, somehow avoiding any major veins and my actual windpipe, then screamed for the guards." Damian looked up at Colin. "I really thought I was dying. I don't know what lie she told, but I passed out, from the blood loss, obviously. And then woke up in old tutors house, hooked up to blood bags and IV's.

"When I was finally strong enough, he helped me gather supplies, and I left the state, heading to Gotham under an assumed name, only paying for things in cash and only stopping when absolutely necessary. I found father, as Talia said I would, and showed him the proof that I was actually his child. He finished nursing me back to health and then spent the next few years making sure I had left the League for the purposes I stated, not to be a rat of some kind."

Jon raised an eyebrow, that wasn't the story he had been told, but he didn't question it, figuring Damian probably had reasons for not telling the whole truth, whatever those reasons may be.

"She told everyone you tried to attack her in order to escape, and in self defense she had to slit your throat. You were confirmed dead, Damian. I felt your pulse die. Ra's told Talia to dispose of the body and I guess instead she saved your life somehow," Colin said softly.

Damian didn't speak for a bit, looking at Colin as he considered this. Colin turned to Jon.

"What about you, pretty boy, what's your story?"

"I don't give out personal details to my Rivals."

Colin's eyebrow shot up, and he looked at Damian. "Friendly sort, huh?"

"He's got a switchblade in his pocket and has been ready to stab you ever since you opened the door," Damian said absently, looking at Jon.

He just shrugged and pulled out the knife, easily flicking it open, the long silver blade glinting in the white light of the kitchen. Colin paled slightly, swallowing and glancing between the two. Jon flicked the blade back into the handle, putting it back in his pocket.

"Well, if you ain't gonna tell me about yourself, I'll have to guess. Dami said you were a Kent so I'm guessing your daddy is the head of Metropolis, Clark Kent, right?" Colin waited for a reaction but wasn't given one. "You look too….. clean, so I'm guessing you don't deal. Probably muscle then, bullying the dealers and buyers, cleaning up messes. Had a few bad run in's?"

Colin tapped his cheek, in the place where Jon had a deep scar. Jon just blinked.

"But if your daddy is the head, you're probably a little higher in the food chain than just muscle. So what are you, lieutenant, captain?" 

Still no response.

"Jesus, it's like talking to a rock."

"I told you, I don't give information out to rivals."

Colin turned to Damian. "My question is why did you pick him?"

"He's good at his job, or so I've been told. My father trusts him, and spoke rather highly of him. He has evaded capture countless times and has a particular skill-set that will be useful to me."

"Sure it ain't because he's cute?"

Damian's eyebrow went up but he didn't respond.

"Alright, well I'll show you to the guest room," Colin said, pushing off the counter and leading them into a living room and then up a beautifully built staircase. He walked down a small hallway, stopping inside a decently decorated room.

"I think I have an air mattress somewhere if you guys would like separate beds," Colin said, flicking the lights on.

"Yes, thank you," Damian said stepping inside and putting his bag down on the floor.

Jon followed, looking around the room, out the window to see how far the drop was. He could probably make that. Colin was discussing something with Damian but he didn't pay attention, considering what he was getting himself into. After a moment, Colin walked out, leaving the two alone. 

"Get some rest if you wish, we're going to be going after Maya late tonight," Damian told Jon, looking at his phone.

"Don't we need to do recon?"

"Kent, I literally grew up inside this territory. Colin tells me that they have changed nothing since I left, so I know exactly where I need to go to get Maya."

"Okay." Jon shrugged and sat on the bed to start unlacing his boots. 

Damian grabbed something from his bag and went to leave.

"Jon, I know this is going to be difficult for you, but you're going to have complete trust in me if you want to make it out of this alive. You're going to have to trust that I know what I am doing."

Jon looked back at Damian and nodded, showing that he understood. Damian nodded back and walked out, shutting the door. Jon pulled off his shirt and changed into sweatpants, closing the curtains of the windows before getting in bed, telling himself to go to sleep. He was unconscious within minutes.


	3. Infiltration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How we feeling about that new Superman update?? Or the rumors of phasing out all the old heroes??? 
> 
> I was okay with the Superman update at first but now idk man. I don't like them doing it just for the phasing out.
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy!!!!

"Kent. Time to wake up…… Kent!"

Jon jolted awake, tensing as memories came flooding back. He was in the League of Shadows territory. He was in one of their members house. He was very unsafe. His hand closed around his knife which he had tucked under the pillow.

"Kent come on, we need to get ready."

The accent, the unamused tone, Jon relaxed as he realized it was just Damian, he rolled onto his back before sitting up, rubbing his eyes, knife in hand. Damian was leaned against the doorframe, watching Jon. If Jon had been more awake, he would've noticed Damian's gaze lazily dragging over his bare chest, but he didn't and that was probably best.

"Yeah, I'll be down in a bit," Jon grunted, looking up at Damian.

"We're gonna eat before we go, and you can leave your bag here, we'll be coming back."

Damian turned and disappeared. Jon pushed himself out of bed, getting dressed in his black jeans and a simple shirt, his work jacket in the truck. He laced up his combat boots, shoving his personal cell deep inside his backpack and bringing his work one along with his knife. When he got downstairs, he immediately smelled food, pasta or something, and found Colin finishing cooking, Damian sat at the dining room table. Jon sat next to him, still waking himself up, knowing that as soon as they got on the road he'd be wide awake from adrenaline.

They ate in silence, Damian solemn and Jon just still half out of it. After eating, Jon headed out to his truck, taking the plates off as Damian had instructed, he shoved them inside the glove box, locking it and then pulling out his jacket and gloves from the back, pulling those on, and zipping up the relatively tight jacket, it was solid black, as were his leather gloves. Damian came out after a few minutes, getting in the passenger side. Jon started up the truck and followed Damian's directions into town. They parked what Damian called "a safe distance" and then Jon started retrieving their weapons. 

He passed Damian his katanas, getting out his own guns, Crosman 1911 BB pistols, he screwed on the silencers and shoving them in the waistband of his jeans. He also grabbed another knife, putting that one in his jeans and the one he always had in his jacket pocket, shoving a few extra mags in his pockets as well. Damian, on top of the swords crossed on his back, he shoved a handgun in his waistband, along with two throwing knives which he strapped to each forearm, pulling the sleeves of his shirt down over them.

"We doing masks?" Jon asked, waiting for Damian's response before he closed the compartment under the seat.

"Yeah, better for both of our safety," Damian said.

Jon pulled out his mask, a hard, almost gas mask type thing that covered his nose and lower face, coming all the way up to just below his eyes. Damian put on an eyemask, perfectly fitted to his face, as well as a cloth mask that covered the lower half of his face. Once they had everything they may need, Jon locked the truck, hiding the keys in a spot only he knew about, figuring he wouldn't want to risk having them on him. Damian started walking away, into the dingy town, and Jon had no choice but to follow

They walked for a while before Damian stopped outside a chain link fence surrounding a warehouse. It had the curved barbwire tops. Damian just produced a pair of wire cutters and climbed up, jamming his toes into the fence so he could clip part of the barbwire and then climb over. Jon followed, feeling the barbwire catch his jacket, he reached back, unsnagged it and then flipped over the fence, landing beside Damian, who just shook his head, tapping a finger to his lips to signal for silence.

Jon nodded, pulling out a gun and keeping it ready, Damian pulled out a Katana and led Jon around the side of the two story warehouse to a window that was partially opened, Jon got down on a knee, bracing Damian as he stood on Jon's leg to look inside the window before pushing it open and pulling himself through it. Jon took a running start, jumping and catching the windowsill, Damian helped pull him through. Jon was officially in one of the most risky places in all of the U.S., and he was not having a good time.

Damian was looking at him, waiting for Jon to make eye contact, signal that he was ready. Jon very much was not ready. It had occurred to him as he was pulling himself inside the warehouse just how likely it was that he could die here. Or be tortured for information. Or worse. He looked up at Damian, and the man could see the fear in the man's eyes. He tilted his head, blinking at Jon, who took a shaky breath, stepping close to Damian.

"Damian, if by any chance I'm captured, please…. Don't let them….. just shoot me, it'd be better for everyone back home if I died," he said softly, Damian just shook his head slightly.

"Don't worry about it, Jon. We will be fine."

"Damian," Jon stressed, grabbing Damian's arm to hold him in place, keeping eye contact.

"Fine. If worse comes to worse."

Jon nodded and let go, motioning for Damian to lead the way. Damian walked to the door, pulling it open just enough for him to look out and check for any guards. When the coast was clear, he pulled out his gun, silencer attached, sticking it around the door and shooting something. He then stepped out, Jon glanced around to see a camera with pieces of glass on the floor. Damian took off at a run, but no noise accompanied his footsteps. He pushed open another door further down the hall and disappeared inside. Jon followed, his running sounding like an elephant compared to Damian.

He slipped into the room just in time to hear the crunch of bones. Damian dropped a limp body to the side, off of a chair and kicked the office chair out of the way. They were now inside what must've been a security room, dozens of monitors displaying different camera feeds around the warehouse. The one from the hall they had just been was just static. Damian typed at a computer for a few minutes before all the screens went to static. He turned and pulled a set of keys off the dead body, and then nodded to Jon. They went back out, and Damian led him down the hall, took a left through a stairwell right before they reached a large open area where Jon could see a frightening amount of people. 

Damian sprinted down the stairs, not waiting on Jon, he went down two whole flights before stopping at a locked door, before stopping to wait for Jon. When his partner joined him, Damian found a key and unlocked the door, propping it open just slightly while he put the key in his pocket, pulling out both katana's. Jon reached forwards, squeezing Damian's shoulder that he was ready, and Damian pushed the door open, darting through. Jon was right behind him. They were immediately greeted by two guards who shouted and pulled out guns, Damian rushed forwards, slitting one's throat with his sword, and Jon simply shot the other. Damian kept moving forwards, down the dark hallway.

Jon was pretty sure they were screwed. But he didn't say anything, following Damian's lead. They soon reached a huge metal door, Damian punched in a passcode to the door, it clicked and opened. He grabbed the heavy door and pushed it, slipping through, ducking under a bullet from someone inside. Jon winced every time a gun went off that wasn't silenced. He followed through, noting Damian dispatching someone. He didn't get to look around long, as someone suddenly appeared and grabbed him from behind, grabbing his hair and pulling him backwards in a headlock. Jon threw his body back, knowing there was a wall behind him. A pained grunt came from whoever had grabbed him, their grip loosening enough that Jon could get his arm between theirs and his throat, following that up by flipping them over his shoulder.

He grabbed his gun from where it had been knocked and was pulling back the trigger when something hit his head and starbursts broke out across his vision, his ears ringing, and sharp stabbing pain coming from the left side of his head, he staggered, hand going to his head as he spun to look at his new assailant, who stepped into him, gut punching Jon, throwing him to the ground and winding him. As he lay on the floor, air eluding him as he gasped for breath, he glanced over, spotting Damian in a similar situation.

"Da- Dami!" Jon managed to get out.

The man's head snapped up, seeing Jon be grabbed by two guards. They met eyes and Jon hoped, prayed, Damian remembered his promised, because right now, Jon was in blinding pain, he couldn't breathe properly, and struggling had earned him a fist to the jaw. Damian knocked off his attackers, grabbing one of their guns in the process and spinning to Jon, gun raising to shoot the two men, he wasn't giving up on the annoying farmboy yet.

_"Enough."_

Everyone in the room froze, Damian locked eyes with Jon, and Jon could see pure fear in his expression, even from across the room. He was yanked around to face the door. Walking into the room was an older looking man, with ugly ass mutton chops and partially gray hair. He was wearing an ugly green suit and Jon's eyes didn't miss the sword on his hip. What was with the League of Shadows and swords. Behind him was a tall, more slender woman, long brown hair flowing loosely around her shoulders, she was wearing a black tanktop and jeans, a thigh holster holding her handgun, and a heavy looking knife bouncing against her hip.

"Look what you've caught me, Talia. Not only did you return to me the grandson I thought was long dead, but-" the man stepped up to Jon, reaching out and pulled down his mask. "You've brought me a Justice welp! And Kent's brat at that!"

Jon snapped his head to the side, to Damian, who was frozen, unrestrained, but frozen in place.

"Damian!" He croaked out. "You promised!"

Damian's hand shook slightly as he looked between Jon and the man, then at the woman. Then, like a switch had been flipped, he suddenly relaxed, dropping the gun on the ground, a smug looking coming over him.

"Kent, are you really that pathetic? Jesus, I thought I would have a harder time getting you to trust me," Damian sneered, giving Jon a look of contempt.

Jon felt his stomach drop, staring at Damian in total shock.

"God, I got so tired of running around, playing the good guy, submitting to all my father's tests. Not like they were hard, he wanted to trust me. It was so easy to get everyone's trust. To convince him that he could trust me with anything, and that _I always have a plan?_ And then to make him believe that Maya was in danger? All it took was one sad look and he believed me," Damian continued. Then looked at the man. "Ra's. I've decided to return. I've collected quite the bit of information for you while I was in the League of Justice, and as proof, I brought you Jon Kent to do with as you please."

Oh god, he was gonna die. He was going to be horribly tortured for all the information he had and then was going to be killed. Jon felt his body freezing, not listening to any of his commands as he panicked, his ears ringing, his jaw throbbing.

The man raised an eyebrow at Damian, glancing between Jon and Damian.

"You went through all the effort of faking your death, twice, mind you, only to come back a few years later to return? You know there will be consequences."

"Oh, I'm well aware, but my home is here, this is where I belong."

The man nodded, he looked back at Jon, grabbing his chin and making him look him in the eyes.

"We're going to have so much fun extracting every little detail about your father's operation," he said, grinning at Jon.

He pulled back, nailing Jon in the gut.

"Throw him in a cell, we'll leave him there for a few days and see what he's willing to tell us."

The guards started dragging Jon away, past Damian, but he stopped them, copying the old man and forcing Jon to look at him.

"_I told you to trust me,_" he said, softly enough that only Jon and the guards around them would hear. He paused for a few seconds, keeping eye contact with Jon. "You shouldn't've listened."

He let go and stepped out of the way, watching as Jon was thrown through a door, and the door was slammed after him, Jon smacked his head against a cement wall, passing out immediately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also if you don't know what I'm talking about, please check out the newest Superman comic. I believe it's scheduled to come out the 9th of October, but I've been seeing previews. That's pretty much what I based Jon's appearance on in this!


	4. Extraction and Escape

Jon was not having a good day. Or week for that matter. But Jesus that was a turn of events. He woke up several hours later, finding himself laying on a cold concrete floor, a dim light above him. He had a pounding headache, and his gut hurt. He groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, slowly pushing himself up to his hands and knees and then standing, finding all his weapons and the contents of his pockets all gone. Even his watch. He walked over to the door, pulling himself up to look through the 2x2 window that was covered in bars.

There was a guard sitting at a stainless steel desk, boredly spinning in circles, he didn't notice Jon, but Jon did notice his weapons in a plastic box sat on the desk. He noted with annoyance there was no door handle on the inside of the door, so he wasn't picking the lock. He luckily wasn't handcuffed or chained in any way so he was free to walk around the small box of a room, the only things inside were an air vent in the wall by the ceiling, and a drain in the middle of the floor. He didn't want to know why that was there. 

"Okay, fuck, Kent. Think," Jon muttered to himself, walking back to the door and examining it. No hinges, not even a piece that he could unscrew where the door handle would be. His only option would be if he could break the bars on the window and then the plastic that formed the window itself and then get his arm down to unlock the door. But there was no way he could get that done before the guard saw him and shot him.

"Kent? Jon Kent?"

Jon froze as he heard the voice. "Hello?"

"The vent. Come closer to the vent."

Jon walked over, looking up at the air vent, realizing that was where the voice was coming from. It was a female voice, she sounded tired and weak.

"Who are you?"

"Maya Ducard. I'm afraid I'm the reason you're stuck in here."

"What the hell?!"

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions-"

"You're damn right I do, Damian…" Jon winced with the memory of the betrayal. "He said you weren't in danger."

"You don't know Damian very well, do you?"

".... No. I don't…"

Maya laughed weakly. "He was lying. To Ra's. I think I know what he was doing."

"Do explain."

"If I know Damian, the only way he saw that he could get out of this alive was to pretend that he had come back to the League, bringing you as sacrifice, otherwise they wouldn't have believed him. As is they probably don't, he's buying you time to get out of here and save him."

"Are you really in danger."

"Yeah, I was supposed to be executed tonight."

Jon frowned, starting to pat his jacket, seeing if they had found the different tools that were sewn inside.

"Any suggestions on how to get out?"

"No, but-"

Maya stopped, Jon heard the talking at the same time. He walked away from the vent, back towards the door, the woman from before, Talia, was stood talking to the guard. He nodded and walked towards Jon's door. Jon ducked to the side so he would be hidden by the wall, he heard the door unlocking and then the knob turning, the man started walking into the room, Jon grabbed him by the throat, spinning him and smashing his head straight into the wall, grabbing the night stick from his belt and spinning on the woman, getting through the door before she could close it. He swung the stick blindly at her before stepping to the side, back against the wall. She didn't try to come closer.

"Easy, Mr. Kent. I am not here to hurt you," She said, hands held out to show she was unarmed.

"Like hell, what do you want then."

"I want you to save my son's life."

"What the hell."

Talia walked past Damian, into the cell. She took the guards keys from him and then walked back out, walking to the cell beside Jon's, unlocking it.

"You need to dispose of the guard," Talia instructed, pointing to the box with Jon's things. 

Jon didn't hesitate, grabbing his gun, reattaching the silencer and checking that it was loaded before walking to the door of the cell. Once he had finished the job, he walked back to the desk, collecting the rest of his weapons. He turned to see Talia ushering a small black haired girl out of the cell. The girl stopped when she saw Jon, he was sure he was quite the sight, he was pissed. Damian had a lot of explaining to do. His gun was still in his hand, his finger on the trigger, ready to take Talia out at the first sign of danger.

"Damian is being forced to battle Mara, his cousin, to prove himself. If he wins the fight, which I highly doubt, he will be punished and then return to working for Ra's."

"Ha. Mara? Damian could beat her with his eyes closed," Maya scoffed

"Not bleeding from a gut wound, he can't."

Maya gave Talia a startled look. Talia just shook her head, holding the keys out to Jon.

"I can't come with you, Ra's thinks I was going to the bathroom, so I need to go. You need to get Maya out. The camera's are still offline, whatever Damian did to them really made a mess out of them," Talia explained.

"What about Damian."

"You'll…. The only way you'll be able to save him and make it out alive is if you can kill or disable Mara and give him enough time to get out of the building. You don't have sniper training, do you?"

"No."

"I do," Maya spoke up, she was definitely weak, but she held her head up confidently.

"Damian packed a rifle, but it's back at my truck. When is he supposed to fight this chick."

"Two hours."

"Okay. Then I'll be back in one."

Jon was already forming a plan. He grabbed Maya's hand with his free one and started walking out the door.

"Kent. If they capture you again, the horrors waiting you will be unspeakable."

Jon ignored Talia, leading Maya out, she directed him back up the stairs and to a door. Jon simply shooting anyone who got in their way, pissed and just wanting to bring Damian back alive. Bruce would be pissed if he didn't. After they got out of the building. Maya and Jon sprinted back towards the truck in a zigzag pattern, making sure they weren't being followed. Jon quickly retrieved his keys and unlocked it, getting inside and starting to dig around in the back. Maya got in the passenger seat, breathing heavy and quite shaky.

"Here, eat." Jon pulled out several protein bars from his bag and handed them to her. 

He found what he was looking for, the first aid kit. He turned forwards in his seat, putting back the driver's seat and flipping down the visor. He winced as he saw the dried blood on the side of his head. He grabbed a wipe from the kit and started dabbing at the blood, slowly pulling chunks off, and looking at the broad gash left behind. It hurt like a bitch. His jaw was obviously going to be bruised, and he had a tender spot on the back of his head from where he had been thrown into the wall. He ripped open a packet of the pain pills and downed them. Maya was watching him the whole time.

He ignored her, leaning over and unlocking the glovebox, pulling out his phone. He and Damian had wisely decided to leave them in the truck rather than risk bringing them with. The sun was starting to come back up, he had an hour and thirty minutes to think up some bullshit plan to save Damian. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, staring at his phone, unlocking it finally and dialing a number. It rang, once. Twice. Three times. Finally the ringing stopped.

"Jon?" A groggy voice asked. "What's the matter?"

"Bruce. I have a huge problem."

"Shit."

There was a pause, some muffled talking, and then the sound of a door closing.

"Walk me through it, Jon. I'll see if I can help."

Jon glanced at Maya, who had finished eating her protein bars and was chugging a water bottle. He started explaining to Bruce everything that had happened over the past 6 hours. Bruce listened, a deadly silence coming over the phone after Jon stopped.

"Fuck."

Jon raised an eyebrow, Bruce rarely swore. He waited quietly for Bruce's advice.

"You got Maya though?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay good. Usually contests like that will be held in an open area. Position Maya on a nearby building with that sniper rifle, you'll have to pose as a guard, shouldn't be hard, they all wear the same shit. Go back in, you'll have to be ready to fight your way out. Don't let them get the drop on you this time, Jon. You're a better fighter than that."

"Yes, sir."

"Jon."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe I'm blinded by the love for my son, but I assure you, Damian didn't betray you. He knew what he was doing, and saw this as your best opportunity. And apparently he was right."

"I'll get him back, Bruce."

"Don't kill yourself in the process, that's an order. Jon, you have people who are waiting for you."

"Yes, sir."

"Go get him."

Bruce hung up the phone. Jon sighed and dropped his head against the steering wheel, taking nearly two minutes just to breathe, refocus his brain. Finally he sat up, put his phone in the glove box and locked it again, he unzipped his jacket, twisting around and pulling a Kevlar vest out from the compartment. He pulled that on and then put his jacket back on. He grabbed the case with the sniper rifle, holding it out to Maya.

"Let's go get Damian."

She nodded, taking it from him, popping it open to make sure there was ammo inside. Jon grabbed another two mags of ammo and pulled his mask back on, getting out of the truck. 20 minutes later, they were in the nearest building to the warehouse, Maya having confirmed Bruce's suspicions that the fight would be in the open part of the warehouse. They found a good spot with a clear sight line into the warehouse. They briefly went over Jon's plan before Jon left Maya, climbing back into the building the same way he had with Damian. He found a guard that was about the same size as him, knocking him out and taking his coat and mask before slitting his throat.

He pulled on the coat over his own, as well as the mask, shoving his own into his pocket. He took the guards sword, clipping it around his back like he had it. Two minutes later he found himself pushing his way to the front of a ring of people, closing in two fighters. So they got started earlier then Talia had anticipated. Damian was fighting against a shorter girl. He was wearing nothing but his jeans, not even boots, Jon could now see blood still dribbling out of a wound in Damian's side. The girl was wearing shorts and a sports bra, and she was uninjured. Damian was evading, letting Mara wear herself out.

Jon watched as Mara lunged, catching Damian by the arm and grabbing on, throwing the injured man across the floor, Damian rolled and landed on his hands and knees, pushing himself up and grabbing Mara in her next assault, turning and judo flipping her, dashing after her, stomping down on her stomach and standing on her wrist. She twisted, nailing the back of his knees and knocking him down, flipping so she was on top of him and staring punching him viciously. 

"Any time now, Maya," Jon muttered, he already had his route out.

As if she had heard him, suddenly Mara fell back off Damian, blood spouting out of the right side of her chest. Gasps came from the crowd. Damian jumped up, staring at Mara. Jon dashed forwards, like he was going to help Mara, but instead he grabbed Damian's arm.

"Let's go!" He yelled, pulling out his guns, giving Damian one, hand going to Damian's wrist as he began sprinting, shooting the two men who stepped to block his path.

Damian, realizing that it was Jon, ran with him, quite eagerly. People were yelling and running after them, but they both shot anyone who got too close, desperate to get out. Jon just ran as fast as he could, hoping Damian could keep up, he reached the exterior door, pulling it open and pushing Damian through before shooting the door handle on the inside and exploding it, so when the door shut and locked behind him, they would have to go all the way around the building to get out. Damian was already scaling the fence. Jon covered the short distance easily, jumping over the fence and taking off after Damian towards the truck. No one had seen them yet.

"Did you get Maya?!"

"Yeah! She's supposed to meet us at the truck!"

Damian nodded, Jon noted him slowing down slightly, he grabbed Damian's hand, tugging him to the side, around a building, a shorter path, slowing his pace so he wasn't dragging him near as much. Soon they reached the truck, Maya was already waiting by the passenger side, sniper rifle thrown over her shoulder. Jon quickly found the keys and unlocked it, Maya scrambled into the backseat and Damian got in the passenger seat. Jon started the truck up and tore out of the parking lot, no League people visible yet. He was going 60 well before he even made it out of the city, going around peaceful morning commuters who were in his way.

Twenty minutes later, Jon had pulled into Colin's property, pulling into the barn as Damian instructed, grabbing their phones and weapons. Maya helped Damian to the house while Jon locked up, running after them. He found them inside, Damian lying on the dining table as Colin started bandaging his still bleeding stomach.

"What the hell happened?!" Colin exclaimed as Jon ripped off the League mask.

"Things didn't go as planned. We're gonna need to bail really quick."

Colin nodded, wrapping Damian quickly, while Maya found and started making some food, knowing they would all need the energy. Jon went and stood by the front window, looking out the blinds. He didn't move until Maya made him nearly 30 minutes later, saying she would keep watch. He finally got an opportunity to get a good look at her. She had short black hair, steel grey eyes. She was thin, almost tiny compared to him, but her eyes flashed with this hidden brilliance. Jon went and got some of the food she had made, sitting next to Damian who was eating ravenously.

"Thanks… for coming back for me," Damian said after he had finished eating.

"Yeah, well you have a lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, I suppose I owe you that."

After they had all eaten, Jon went and got his and Damian's bags from upstairs, loading the truck up and telling the other two it was time to go. He was beyond eager to get out of this state, out of his rivals territory. Damian spent the next five minutes trying to convince Colin to come with them. Colin refused, but wished them the best of luck, sending them with some medical supplies for Damian. Jon had been tapping his fingers against his legs, a nervous tick, he didn't stop tapping until they were in the truck, and even then it was for only a few minutes before he was tapping them on the steering wheel.

Once they were about thirty minutes away from Colin's, Jon pulled over in the middle of nowhere, putting his license plates back on, because the last thing he needed right now was to get pulled over. He drove for another hour in silence, as both Maya and Damian had passed out. After he felt like they had made it a decent distance away from the city, he called Bruce again. The man didn't answer, which meant he was probably in a meeting. So he left his phone on vibrate and put it under his leg. Jon drove for nearly four hours straight, stopping only to get gas, and then getting back on the road. Damian slept for nearly six hours, only waking up to Jon talking on the phone.

"-Sir, they've been sleeping this whole time…… Well if they did then they're out of luck, I'm well out of state now and it'll take them a while to catch up."

Jon glanced over, meeting Damian's gaze.

"Yeah, I'll have him call you when we get someplace safe….."

"If you think you can make it, go ahead to D.C.. Diana will have rooms waiting for you, I'll feel much better once you are all back under our territory."

"Yeah, me too. I don't think I'll be stopping for much more than gas and food."

"Don't exhaust yourself, Kent."

"I'll be fine, B."

"Good."

Jon set down the phone after the line went dead, glancing over at Damian again, putting both hands on the steering wheel.

"How are you feeling?" Jon asked.

"Like shit, I think I bled through my shirt." Damian gently touched the spot where he had been injured, confirming that yes, blood had soaked through.

"We can deal with it when we stop for food in a bit."

"How long have you been driving?"

"Six or seven hours. You two have been out the whole time."

"Jesus."

"Yeah, I'm okay though, I'd rather be doing this then stuck pretending to sleep."

"Yeah, I guess so….."

Jon glanced over at Damian, who looked like he wasn't all there, his eyes kept closing.

"Go back to sleep, Damian. I'll wake you when I stop for food."

Damian nodded, shifting positions and letting his eyes close. He was back asleep within twenty minutes. Leaving Jon, once again, alone. He drove for another two hours before his hunger finally started to win over his urge to get as far away as he could. He got off the interstate, following the signs towards the restaurants. He reached over, putting a hand on Damian's leg and squeezing slightly.

"Hey, time to wake up."

Damian's eyes opened, he blinked at Jon and then stretched slightly before grunting in pain. Jon moved his hand just as Damian put his on his stomach. 

"You okay?"

"Not particularly."

Jon nodded, reaching behind him to gently push Maya's leg.

"Hey, Maya. Wake up, we're gonna stop for food."

After they were both awake, Jon pulled into a Culver's, he got out and walked around to the passenger side, telling Damian to stay in the truck. He opened the door, Damian turned to face him, pulling his shirt up. Jon started unwrapping the wound. It was still bleeding quite a bit, but all Jon could do is rewrap it, making sure there was plenty of gauze and pressure on it. He had Damian take some more pain meds before letting him get out, Maya crawled out after him.

"Kent, let me change shirts," Damian said, pointing at his bloody shirt.

Jon waved his hand, pulling his leather jacket off and holding it out to Damian. "Just wear this."

Damian took it, looking at it for a moment before shrugging and pulling it on, zipping it up enough to cover the bloodstain. Jon locked the truck, walking inside, not telling Damian that he had a gun shoved into his waistband. They stood in line for a few minutes before ordering and sitting down. Lunch was pretty quick, they were only there for about 15 minutes, but just that was making Jon paranoid. Damian and Maya were just glad to be able to stretch their legs and not be stuck in a vehicle. After eating, they got back on the road, Jon still driving, as he didn't trust either Damian or Maya at this stage. After another hour or so, Damian started explaining, starting at the very beginning for Maya, telling her about how he had escaped.

"When we got to the compound, things were going well…. Impossibly well," Damian said, finally getting to the part Jon was interested in. "When we found so many guards waiting inside the cells, I had a feeling that things were going to go south. When Ra's appeared, I panicked, as Jon probably noticed, I should've just shot him, I had the advantage. But I froze, memories and pain taking over my body. At that point, the only thing I could do was bluff my way out. That's why I pulled out that lie about bringing Jon as proof that I wanted to come back.

"Ra's didn't believe me, and I could tell. After they knocked you out, I was taken upstairs to Ra's office where they drilled me for three hours, trying to get information, I fed them enough lies for them to think I was actually betraying my father. Ra's first punishment for my treason was this wound, the second was having to fight Mara. Something I knew I couldn't accomplish weakened from the wound. She only grew more ruthless over the past six years, while I was learning to be more forgiving. And I was right, I don't know at what point you came in Jon, but I fought her for nearly thirty minutes before Maya shot her. I was pretty sure she was going to kill me then and there. And the rest you two know…."

"So, you didn't actually betray me?"

"No! No. God, you didn't get the hints I was dropping?"

"No, Damian, I had just been pistol-whipped. The only thing I was getting was a concussion."

Damian shrugged slightly, Jon shook his head, focusing on his driving as Maya explained what had happened that caused Ra's to decide to kill her. Jon focused on driving, feeling exhaustion starting to seep into him, and his head return to throbbing. He needed to take more pain meds.

"Hey, Damian, you need to call your dad," Jon said absently as he pulled off the interstate, he needed gas, an energy drink.

"Okay, are we stopping?"

"Yeah."

"Then I'll do it after."

Jon let Damian borrow his jacket again, while he was filling up the truck, Maya and Damian went inside to go to the bathroom. Jon did the same after he was done, buying himself something with a lot of caffeine.

He was honestly pretty impressed when he reached D.C. without dissociating. Once he had gotten several states away from The League of Shadows, he had relaxed slightly, and usually that's when he spaced out, especially since his passengers were both asleep. He reached D.C. at about two am, and got to Diana's house at two thirty. She was waiting up for them with a team of doctors, having been told about Damian's injury. They immediately started patching Damian up, one tended to Jon's head, while Diana took Maya to get food and to find the girl some clean clothes so she could shower. Jon sat, letting a stranger gently clean the remainder of the dry blood from his head, watching as Damian was laying on a table flat on his back, two doctors carefully stitching up his injury.

After getting the injury cleaned, the doctor bandaged the injury, which meant Jon was now sporting gauze wrapped around his forehead. He found Diana sat in the kitchen, keeping a pot of stew hot. He gratefully accepted it and then sat at her breakfast bar, scarfing down two servings before beginning to tell her exactly what happened. After he finished, Diana showed him to a room, apologizing that he and Damian would have to share, but at this point, Jon couldn't care less. After Maya was done showering, Jon took a quick shower before dragging his tired ass to bed and collapsing, exhaustion taking over and he passed out completely.


	5. Homeward Bound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Jon didn't wake up until 2pm, he lay in bed for a while before getting up and pulling on clean clothes, making his way downstairs. He found Damian and Maya in the living room, and Diana in the kitchen, on the phone. She waved to Jon and pointed to a plate of food. Jon reheated it before walking into the living room to eat, head throbbing, he sat next to Damian, eating quietly.

"You look like shit."

"I feel like shit, man," Jon muttered, glancing over at Damian, who was watching him. Some crappy adventure movie was playing on the tv.

Damian chuckled slightly, looking down at his phone. "You were out like a rock, when I finally got up there, you didn't even wake up when I turned a light on."

"Well I did drive for a whole day straight on a potentially concussed brain."

"Yeah, I'm driving the rest of the way to Gotham."

"Okay." Jon didn't even try to resist. He didn't have the energy. 

He finished his food and curled up, texting his dad that he was alive and safe, and then promptly falling back asleep. They spent that night at Diana's as well, as everyone was still exhausted. Maya, now that she had eaten some good meals and gotten some proper rest, was the best feeling of all of them. Damian was doing okay now that he had stopped bleeding, but he had lost a lot of blood and was tired from that. And Jon, the longer he stayed still and relaxed, the more confident he was that something had been messed up in his head, he told himself he'd ask Bruce to check it out and just continued sleeping.

Things were a little more awkward that evening when he went to bed, since he wasn't asleep when Damian got there. The queen bed was large enough to fit both comfortably, but it was always a little bit awkward to have to share a bed with someone you barely knew. Jon woke up in the middle of the night to Damian laying on his side, facing Jon, phone screen lighting up his face.

"Dames?" Jon murmured, the nickname just slipping out.

"Oh, sorry." Damian clicked off the phone.

"No, you're fine. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. Just couldn't get to sleep."

Jon, for some reason that was purely instinctual, held his hand up. Damian looked at it in the dim light for a minute, set down his phone and put his hand in Jon's, for some reason that was also purely instinctual.

"What's keeping you up."

"Ra's knows I'm alive now. As in, he knows for sure. I doubt he ever really thought I was dead. There is a good chance he may try to find me and kill me."

"Welcome to the club."

"What?"

"I can't tell you the amount of times he has tried to kill me or my parents."

Damian chuckled slightly.

"He's persistent."

"Can I ask a question?" Jon asked, reaching up with his free hand to rub his eyes.

"I suppose."

"Ra's called you his grandson…. And Talia called you her son…."

"Ah…. Yes…. I suppose that secret made its way out. I'm the grandson of the Godfather of the League of Shadows. Talia, his second in command, is my mother, and Ra's daughter."

Jon blinked at him, frowning. "Do I even wanna know how Bruce is your dad?"

"As far as I'm aware, Talia seduced him, got him drunk and-"

"Yeah so the answer to that question was no."

Damian laughed, smiling at Jon. It was a little shocking to see. A genuine smile. From Damian Wayne.

"So you're really serious about abandoning the League of Shadows?"

"Yes, like I said, they tortured and manipulated me into doing what Ra's wanted. I was tired of living that way, even with Bruce's watchful eye I have so much more freedom in Gotham. If I mess up, the punishment isn't torture. It took me a long time to understand how things worked with Bruce, but now I never wish to go back."

Jon nodded accepting that as truth, squeezing Damian's hand slightly.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep."

"Okay, sleep well, Kent."

"You too, Dames."

Jon let his eyes close, keeping his hold on Damian's hand.

The next morning he woke up, amazingly still holding on to Damian. The man was still asleep, eyes closed, his expression peaceful, the most relaxed Jon had ever seen Damian. Jon smiled, rolling onto his back so he could reach behind him and grab his phone. He laid on his side, facing Damian, responding to texts. His head felt much better today, the constant throbbing gone, at least for now. After a bit, he gently pulled his hand out of Damian's, who made a small noise and rolled onto his back. Jon just chuckled and got up, pulling on a clean shirt and socks before walking downstairs. Diana was the only one awake, and she looked like she had just gotten up. 

"Good morning," Jon called to her, mostly to alert her that he had walked in.

"Ah, good morning, Jonathan," she said, in that light french accent of hers.

Jon smiled slightly. "Just Jon is fine. Do you want any help with breakfast?"

"No, I'm fine. Coffee is ready though if you want that."

"Oh, yes please."

Jon grabbed a mug and poured himself a cup of coffee, walking into the living room to give Diana space. He sat down on the sofa, drinking his coffee and reading a newspaper he had found, the title article was about the rise of Mafia crime and drugs over the past month. The writer had clearly not been visited by Diana's people, calling for the "corrupt" police to do something about it. Jon chuckled, shaking his head.

"You look like my father," a rough voice said from behind Jon, he turned to look at the person.

Damian was standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, he was shirtless still, the gauze patch over his stitches visible. He yawned, his short hair spikey and pushed to one side from sleep. Jon swallowed, because Jesus, Damian was attractive. It took him a moment to find his words.

"How are you feeling?"

Damian made his way around the sofa, grabbing a pillow and putting it on Jon's lap before laying down, his head on the pillow.

"Tired."

Jon carefully folded the newspaper, leaning forwards to set it down on the coffee table. He had this moment of uncertainty where his hand hovered over Damian's side before he finally committed and let his hand rest on his side, keeping it away from his injury. Damian smiled slightly, his eyes closed. Jon told himself to relax, that Damian initiated it so it was okay. They sat like this for a while before Jon's other hand dropped off the armrest and started running through Damian's hair.

"Is this okay?" Jon asked softly. 

Damian's response was a nod and a smile. Jon smiled to himself, gently playing with Damian's short hair. Damian started drifting back to sleep, the feeling soothing.

"Should I leave you two alone?" 

Jon glanced over his shoulder to see Maya walking over. Damian didn't move, having actually fallen asleep. Jon held a finger up to his lips, Maya shook her head, snatching Jon's coffee before sitting in an armchair. She sat there, staring at the wall while finishing Jon's coffee. Nearly 30 minutes later, when the smell of food had filled the house, Diana poked her head in the room.

"Hey, breakfast is ready!" 

Jon felt Damian jerk awake, his hand going to Jon's leg, he took a shaky breath and rolled onto his back, blinking up at Jon.

"Did I fall asleep?"

"Yeah, you did," he said with a laugh, gently pushing Damian hair back and letting it poof back up.

"Ugh. I blame you," Damian muttered and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Uh-huh, come on, let's get food, so we can get you back home." Jon stood and started towards the kitchen, where Maya had already disappeared to.

"What, it's within my right to blame you."

"And what did I do?"

"You and your playing with my hair, putting me to sleep."

Jon laughed, shaking his head, turning back to Damian and leaning against the doorframe. 

"Maybe you shouldn't have laid on me then."

Damian muttered something under his breath but stood, walking over and lightly bumping into Jon, who laughed, reaching behind him to gently smack Damian's arm. They walked into the kitchen, getting their breakfast and then sitting at the table with Diana and Maya. Jon and Diana discussed the route back to Gotham while eating, and by the time they had finished they had agreed to leave in an hour. Jon had his head rechecked by Diana's doctors, who told him he could leave it unbandaged, but to be very careful when messing with his hair, especially when showering.

After that, Jon went and repacked, and then loaded all their bags back into his truck. Despite Damian's comment earlier about driving, Jon was feeling good enough that he planned on doing so, and Damian still seemed very tired. At the prearranged time, they got ready to leave, Jon said his goodbyes to Diana, the woman who was like an Aunt to him. After they had said goodbye, they all got back into the truck and started driving again, more relaxed and stopping more often now.

They got back to Gotham around dinner time, Bruce and Selina were waiting for them, hugging Damian as soon as he walked in the door. Jon didn't even bother to unload the truck yet, just went in, Selina gave him a hug too, leading them into the dining room, where food was ready and waiting for them. The huge dining room had several vases of roses scattered around the room, Damian looked confused, as they had appeared in just the few days they were gone. As they ate, Jon and Damian tag team explained everything that had happened. When they were done eating, Selina took Damian to get some blood infusion, Alfred took Maya to get situated in a guest room, and Bruce stayed at the table to talk to Jon.

"Something tells me you already know this, but I feel like I should tell you anyway. Ra's Al Guhl is the Godfather of the League of Shadows, and he's also Damian's grandfather," Jon said, looking at the now empty plate of food.

Bruce stood, walking over to a bar cart in the corner of the room and pouring two drinks, not responding yet. He walked over to Jon, offering him a glass of alcohol, whiskey, Jon thought.

"Yeah, I knew."

Jon took the glass, taking a sip of it. "And you didn't share that information with my father? You know how long we have been trying to figure out who was in charge over there."

Bruce shrugged. "I knew the questions that it would cause if I brought it up."

"You know I have to tell him, right?"

"Of course, it's your duty. What else did you find out?"

"Get me a notepad and I can sketch out the layout of their compound."

Bruce called Alfred, and within five minutes, Jon had a rough sketch of the compound, telling Bruce exactly where it was, explaining the surrounding area and where he had positioned Maya. They chatted for a while, had a few more drinks, before Damian and Selina returned. Damian still looked pale, but he raised an eyebrow at the two, most specifically Jon, who was downing the last of his third glass of whiskey.

"You boys been having fun?" Selina asked, snatching Bruce's glass and finishing it.

"No, we've been working, dear," Bruce said, rolling his eyes, he snagged Selina and pulled her in for a kiss.

Jon sighed and looked down at his paper, tapping his pencil as he tried to think of anything else. His vision was beginning to dance as the alcohol went to his head. He glanced up as he felt a hand on his back. Damian had walked over, putting a hand on Jon's back and leaning over to look at his paper.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better. They put a bag in me and then told me to go home and rest."

"Hmm, that's good."

Jon sighed, rubbing his eyes. He pushed the notepad away, setting down his pencil.

"Sorry, B. I don't have anything else," he muttered, standing.

"That's fine, Jon. You've gone above and beyond what we asked you to do," Bruce said, waving his hand to Jon to dismiss him. "Go get some rest."

Jon nodded, turning to walk out the door, he paused, looking back at Damian. He shook his head slightly but walked closer to Jon.

"I need to talk to my father, but wait for me in the living room? It's just down the hall from the parlor."

"Yeah, sure." Jon reached out, gently squeezing Damian's hand before turning and making his way out.

He found the living room, it was obvious it was the living room, as there was a huge flat screen TV and gaming consoles on the tv stand underneath it. On the oak coffee table there was another vase full of roses. Jon flopped down on a huge sofa that was incredibly soft, leaning against a pillow that was propped against the armrest. He pulled up his phone, looking at social media while he waited. After about a half an hour, Damian walked in, Jon watched as he walked around, grabbed the TV remote and a blanket, walking over to the sofa. Jon sat up, turning so he was sat properly on the sofa. Damian sat down, sitting cross legged, his right leg on Jon's. He threw the blanket, which was incredibly soft, over them both and started flipping through TV stations. Jon shifted slightly, putting his arm on the back of the sofa, behind Damian.

Damian turned a sci-fi show and then shifted, leaning into Jon, and Jon let his hand slid down onto Damian's shoulder. He was tipsy and down for taking risks, Jon squeezed Damian into his side, letting his hand stay on the bare part of Damian's arm. Damian didn't pull away, he didn't even seem to mind when Jon started tracing patterns on his arm. They stayed up for a while, watching several episodes of whatever show it was. Jon could tell Damian was getting tired, but he was also getting more touchy-feely. He had moved so he was curled up against Jon, his hand finding its way to Jon's thigh and staying there.

Jon pulled his eyes away from the tv, down to Damian's face, who was still watching the TV, enthralled. Jon's original thought when he first met Damian ran through his head. Damian was so attractive, he should've been a god. Jon, tipsy and brave, had a thought pop into his head. His eyes went down to Damian's lips, and that single thought filled his brain, not allowing any other thoughts to enter. He wanted to kiss Damian. He wanted to kiss the man curled into his side. The only question was would Damian let him.

Damian, sensing he was being watched, flicked his eyes up to Jon briefly before looking back at the TV. When Jon still didn't look away, he looked back up, eyebrow raising lazily.

"Jon?"

Jon didn't respond, just put his free hand on Damian's face, tilting it up to him and then leaning down, pressing his lips to Damian's. He waited, expecting Damian to push him off, hit him or something. But he didn't. And that was even more shocking. Damian pressed into Jon, immediately kissing him back eagerly. A moment passed before Damian pulled back, blinking up at Jon, a smirk forming on his lips.

"God, I'd wondered if you'd ever get brave enough."

"You little shit," Jon said with a laugh.

Damian laughed slightly, reaching up and digging his fingers into Jon's hair, tangling the strands in between them. Jon let him, keeping eye contact with Damian, waiting to see what he would do next. He wasn't disappointed when Damian pulled the blanket off and swung over so he was straddling Jon, hand still in his hair. Jon leaned up, catching Damian's lip, this kiss more desperate as he put his hands on Damian's waist. Damian pulled on his hair as he bit Jon's lips, teasing him a tad before letting Jon take control of the situation. The making out turned from simple kissing to dirtier, hot and heavy kissing that included quite a bit of teeth and tongue.

"God, if I wasn't as fucked up as I am," Damian muttered, breaking the kiss.

Jon didn't respond, just tried to catch Damian's lips again, but Damian avoided him, putting a hand on his chest, pressing him back against the sofa.

"We need to stop, because if we don't I'm going to want you in my bed and I don't think I can handle that right now."

Jon sighed, but nodded, reaching up and gently caressing Damian's cheek, he smiled at Jon, running a hand through the others hair before leaning down and kissing his forehead. Jon smiled back, coming down from his mini-high from kissing Damian. Damian slid off of Jon's lap, sitting beside him. Their tv show had ended a while ago, Damian just turned it off, standing.

"We should both go to bed," he said, turning back to Jon.

Jon didn't move.

"Kent."

"You know, I don't have to be in your bed just because we had sex."

Jon would swear he saw Damian blush. He put his hands on his hips, shaking his head at Jon. After a moment, he held out a hand.

"Tt. Come on then."

Thirty minutes, and a shower later, Jon found himself stood in the middle of Damian's huge bedroom. Damian was getting into bed, but stopped when he noticed Jon standing there with his mouth open.

"Hey, you're catching flies."

"What? Oh." Jon jolted out of his shock and walked over to the other side of the bed, plugging his phone in and then pulling off his shirt.

He got into the bed next to Damian, noting the silky sheets and soft duvet. He rolled onto his side to face Damian, who was sending one last text before turning his phone off and setting it to the side. He turned to face Jon, they just laid there and looked at each other for a minute. Damian held his hand up and Jon slipped his into it.

"Night."

"Good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon finally caught on!!!


	6. Business as Usual

_Three weeks later_

"Who are you getting your drugs from!?"

"No one! I swear! Its backstock from you!" 

Jon exchanged an annoyed look with the other man, a guy named Alex or something. He stepped forwards, taking over the situation.

"Look, Benny. I wanna believe you. I really do. But I know you get enough business that backstock won't happen. So cut the bullshit, you don't wanna see my bad side."

Benny stared at Jon in fear, clamming up. Jon shook his head, cracking his knuckles. He took another step forwards, within swinging range of the man sat in the chair. His arm came back.

"Wait!"

Jon carried through with the punch anyway, stepping forwards with it, his fist made contact with Benny's jaw and sent him flying out of the chair. He let out a shout of pain, and as soon as he had hit the floor, Jon picked him up, shoving him back into the chair, hand on his throat.

"Tell me! Now!"

"Okay! Okay! Jesus! Some new supplier started up just downtown! He only charges half of what you guys do, that's why I started with him."

"Name and location, Benny."

"No, he'll-"

"Ben." Jon's hand tightened, Benny made a choking noise. "Don't fret your tiny brain over what he's gonna do. He ain't here. And if you don't give me the information I wanna know right now, you ain't gonna have any fingers to deal your fucking drugs with."

"Name's Lex Luthor! He runs his business out of the shipping department downtown!" Benny croaked out, fingers pulling at Jon's hand 

Jon smiled and relaxed his grip, allowing the man to breathe properly. "There we go. Was that so hard? Now. This is your only warning. Pull shit like this again and your rates are gonna skyrocket, do it a third time and you're gonna lose more than money."

Jon let go and stepped away. "Get out of here, you rat."

Benny jumped up and scrambled out the door. Jon turned to Alex.

"Mr. Nice Guy doesn't work on them, you gotta threaten what's most valuable to them, their appendages and their money."

Alex nodded, and watched Jon walk to the door. 

"Where you going?"

"Home!"

"Got a hot date or something? You could at least help me clean up!"

"Yeah, you could say that. And no, you got it, part of the training!"

Jon walked out the door, walking the few blocks to where he parked his truck, getting in and starting to drive out of town, to his home in the country. He wasn't lying, necessarily. The Wayne's were coming out tonight, and Damian, who Jon hadn't seen in three weeks, was going to spend the night so he could be shown around metropolis the next day. Jon wasn't terribly nervous, they had been texting for the past weeks, and Damian had made enough suggestive comments about the trip that Jon had a strong suspicion on how things were gonna go for him.

When he got to the farmhouse, there was no additional vehicles, so that meant the Wayne's weren't there yet. Jon parked his truck and jumped out, grabbing his work bag, which was literally just a backpack with all his different weapons and "interrogation equipment", his jacket, gloves, and mask, and a first aid kit. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, tucking his phone into his pocket and walking up to the porch. He paused as he heard a car slowing down, and then pulling into the driveway, he turned to see a SUV pulling in and parking behind his truck. He sighed, looking down at his clothes, splattered with mud and blood. 

He watched as the three Wayne's got out of the SUV, Bruce waved to him, saying something to Selina before starting to walk up, Damian beside him. Bruce was dressed in his usual black slacks and a button down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and the top two buttons undone. Selina was in nice jeans and a nice flowy top. And Damian. Damian looked like an absolute vision in his fitted jeans and a green button down, styled similarly to his father. He pulled off his sunglasses, sticking them into his breast pocket, smiling at Jon from the distance.

"Jon, good to see you!"

Bruce stuck out his hand to Jon, who shook it. If Bruce noticed anything about Jon's current appearance, he didn't say anything.

"Bruce, mom and dad should be inside."

Selina smiled at Jon as she followed Bruce to the door. Damian stopped in front of Jon, hands in his pockets, eyebrow raised at Jon.

"I hope this isn't yours?" He poked a spot of blood on Jon's shirt.

"Uhhh. No, I don't think so." Jon glanced down at Damian's finger. "Sorry, I literally just pulled in from work, haven't gotten the chance to clean up."

Damian shrugged, hooking his arm through Jon's and starting to pull him to the door. They walked in together, their parents chatting in the living room. Clark looked up and raised an eyebrow, not at them, but at Jon's clothes.

"Yeah, I know, I'm gonna go change."

Jon pulled his arm out of Damian's, squeezing it and then darting upstairs to his room. He kicked off his shoes, then yanked off his shirt, throwing it and his jeans in the laundry hamper. He quickly pulled on a clean pair of jeans and darted into the bathroom, washing off the small amount of blood splatter. He frowned at himself, examining his busted lip, one of the buyers had slugged him pretty good when they had tried to catch her and had busted his lip. He shook his head, of course this weekend. He finished washing his face and ran a comb through his hair before walking back to his room, planning to grab a shirt and run downstairs, only to find Damian sat on his bed, looking around the room.

"Hey…."

"Hello."

Jon quietly closed the door behind him, Damian looked at Jon, eyes going straight to his bare chest, taking his sweet time to look over the muscles. Jon stood still, hands on hips, letting him, not like he had anything to hide. He had well shaped muscles, due to weightlifting nearly every day, a few scars here and there due to different accidents, the most notable a thin long one going from the end of his collarbone across his chest. Damian, with a lazy smirk, looked up at Jon, leaning back, his hands propping himself up on the bed. Jon walked over to his closet, looking through his shirts.

"How's Maya?"

"She's doing good. We got her settled into an apartment just last week, she's picked up a pretty good IT job with a start up and seems to be making a good salary so far, nothing like she made with the League, but for a normal citizen still good."

"That's great to hear. And what about you, any death threats from Big Bad Wolf yet?"

"Yeah, actually."

Jon raised an eyebrow, glancing behind him.

"Nothing too serious, but Bruce is paranoid about it. He'll probably make you promise to keep an eye on me or something."

Jon heard the bed creak as Damian stood up off it, followed by light footsteps of him walking closer. Damian reached past him, grabbing a sweater.

"Wear that."

Jon took it off the hanger with a nod, pulling it over his head, and then looking at Damian, who nodded approvingly.

"So what do you say, Kent. Think you can protect me?" Damian asked, stepping into Jon's space, their lips barely an inch apart.

Jon looked down at Damian for a moment before responding. "I think your safety should be the least of Bruce's worries."

Damian smirked, Jon grabbed his hips and pulled him into a kiss, eyes closing as their lips met. Damian put his arms on Jon's shoulders, fingers digging into his hair as he pressed into Jon. They kissed for a minute before Jon pulled away, just far enough that Damian couldn't pull him back in for another kiss, but staying close enough that he could keep his hold on Damian.

"We should get downstairs before they start getting suspicious."

"What, are you saying your parents don't know?"

Jon chuckled as Damian let go of him, stepping back, he shook his head, walking over to a mirror and fixing his hair.

"Well, I haven't sat them down and said, "hey by the way, I kinda have a weird off and on relationship with Damian Wayne, hope that's okay!" Or anything like that."

"Would it be okay?" Damian asked, walking towards the door.

"Yeah, they know I can handle myself, and they know that I know that Bruce would gut me like a fish if I did anything to hurt you so they wouldn't care."

Damian laughed at that, pulling the door open and walking downstairs. They found the parents sat at the table, waiting for them.

"There, you look much more suitable!" Lois said, smiling to Jon, who laughed a bit. "Come on, sit down so we can actually eat!"

Jon slipped into his usual seat next to Clark, Damian sat beside him, Bruce and Selina across from them. Lois had made a wonderful chicken pot pie, as well as a smaller vegan pot pie for Selina and Damian. Wine was served along with supper, a rare thing for the Kent family. Jon and Clark kept exchanging looks, Jon needed to talk to Clark, but they both knew Lois would get mad if they began work talk at the dinner table, especially with guests present. He began bouncing his leg at some point, listening to Selina and Lois discuss Lois' recent article. Damian raised an eyebrow at Jon as he sipped his wine.

"Who put ants down your pants?" He said softly to Jon.

"I'm fine, just need to tell my dad something."

"Then tell him."

"No, mom will get-"

"Jon, do you have something to share?"

Jon looked up at Lois, who was staring at him, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Yeah, but it's work related so…."

Lois sighed and waved her hand. "Whatever. Go ahead."

Jon turned to Clark. "I found out who has been supplying in town."

"Really? Who?"

"Luthor."

"Jesus, I thought Connor dealt with him."

"So did I."

Clark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Great, so we'll have to figure that out. Did you get a location?"

"Yeah, Benny said the shipping department downtown."

"Okay, perfect. Connor and I will go deal with him tomorrow. Properly this time."

"Having problems?" Bruce asked, looking up in interest.

"Yeah, Kara calculated up that we were making significantly less this month then we did last, she did some digging and found that a couple of our dealers had stopped buying supplies from us, Jon did what he does best and found out who, some putz named Lex Luthor who's caused us problems in the past, thought he was dealt with but he apparently decided to rear his ugly head."

"Need any help?"

"No, I'll handle it personally."

Bruce nodded, aware exactly what that meant. He finished his wine and Jon, having now gotten that off his chest, relaxed considerably, slouching in his seat, sipping his wine, the glass held in his left hand. His right hand went under the tablecloth to Damian's hand that was on his thigh. He slipped his hand under Damian's, intertwining their fingers. The rest of the dinner went well, Lois brought out an apple pie and ice cream, which was of course, delicious. 

After desert, they found themselves on the back porch, sitting and chatting. Lois and Selina seemed to have no end of conversation topics, and Bruce and Clark seemed content to listen to their wives. Jon sat peacefully for nearly half an hour before getting bored and standing, offering his hand to Damian who took it without hesitation. The parents went quiet, watching as the two walked off the porch, still holding hands. Jon started walking away from the house, not really having a location, just wanting to be alone with Damian. They ended up walking around the property, the early fall air chilly enough to make them walk close together.

"You grew up here?"

"Yeah, been here my whole life."

"That's nice. I'm a little jealous if I'm honest."

Jon glanced over at him, frowning slightly.

"Hey, you have the Manor now, right?"

"Yeah I suppose you are right."

Jon chuckled, glancing around, they weren't in sight of their parents. He stopped walking, pulling Damian around to face him. Damian was just shorter than him by a few inches, his eyebrow was raised, but he stepped into Jon, arms going around his neck. Jon slipped his hands under Damian's shirt, letting them rest against his skin, on his sides.

"Jesus your hands are cold."

Jon laughed, the sound pulling a smile from Damian, who leaned up, kissing Jon on the jaw. Jon smiled at him, his thumb gently rubbing circles on Damian's hip. They kissed lightly a few times, not moving from their spot stood in the middle of the yard.

"You know we should probably actually talk about whatever this is."

"Hmm?"

"Dames, come on. My parents are gonna wanna know and what am I supposed to tell them?"

Damian hummed in consideration, tapping a finger on Jon's back as he thought.

"Well you could tell them that you've been masterfully seduced by yours truly and that you see no escape from his grip, and soon he'll have you naked in his bed."

Jon reached around, smacking Damian on the ass, Damian gave him a shocked look.

"No."

"You don't like my tale?"

"It won't be received well."

Damian rolled his eyes, Jon's hand was still on his ass, and he was content to leave it there. Damian reached up and started running his hands through Jon's hair. 

"Well then just tell them the truth."

"And what is that, Dames."

"We have a relationship of sorts and we haven't discussed it fully yet, so you don't know exactly what this all is."

"Oh."

Damian smiled slightly at him and kissed him. "Come on, let's finish our walk."

He dropped his arms from Jon's neck, hooking his arm through Jon's and continuing to walk, Jon leading him past the barn and their small apple orchard. Slowly they made their way back to the porch, where Bruce and Selina were preparing to leave.

"Jon, can I talk to you for a moment?" Bruce asked, barely glancing at Jon and Damian's linked hands.

Lois, however, gave them a much longer look, coupled with an eyebrow raise. Jon knew he'd be getting questioned later.

"Yeah, sure, B."

Jon let go of Damian, following Bruce inside the house. Bruce walked into the kitchen and turned to Jon, arms crossed.

"Ra's has been trying to find Damian, sending death threats to my people that are about Damian. I know you care about him, but I'm just making sure you understand the danger he is in."

"Yeah, I know, Bruce. I'll keep him safe."

"Good lad. Don't have too much fun this weekend."

Jon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Sure, Bruce. Sure."

Bruce laughed, walking back towards the door, patting Jon on the shoulder. They walked back outside, Bruce and Selina said their good-byes and were gone within five minutes. Jon helped his mother clean up, and then found Damian sat in the living room. Clark sat in his usual spot on the sofa.

"Dad, do you need help with chores?"

"No, you get your guest situated."

Clark didn't move. Normally he was doing chores by now, but he just sat there, watching the news. Jon stared at him for a minute, thinking something was off. He sensed Lois before he heard her walking up behind him, he turned to look at her and she walked past to sit beside Clark.

"We wanted to ask you something," Lois started.

Jon sighed and caught Damian's amused look, he just shook his head, waiting for his parents to ask the question that he already knew was coming.

"What is happening between you two?" She asked, watching Jon carefully.

"Uh." Jon glanced at Damian, who gave him a smile. "We have…. A relationship of some kind? It hasn't been fully discussed ..."

Lois looked at Damian who nodded in agreement.

"A romantic relationship?" Clark asked.

"Yeah."

Clark easily appeased, nodded and looked back at the tv. Lois frowned slightly, giving Damian a strange look, but nodded and stood, walking back into the kitchen. Jon gave Damian a pained look, but walked over, snagging his hand and pulling him off the sofa, towards the stairs. Damian grabbed the small backpack he had packed, and they headed up to Jon's room to begin "getting him situated".

……

Jon woke up the next morning with Damian partially laying on his chest, he was already awake, doing something on his phone. Jon sighed lightly and let his eyes close, slipping his arms around Damian and rolling so Damian was fully on top of him.

"Well, good morning sleeping beauty," Damian said with a chuckle, turning off his phone so he could comfortably lay with Jon.

Jon hummed in response, one hand resting high on Damian's back, the other on his hip. He didn't say anything, but loosened his grip slightly as Damian wiggled to be more comfortable. He felt Damian's chin on his chest and opened his eyes slightly to see Damian smiling at him. He had a beautiful smile.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly 9:30," Damian answered with a glance at his phone.

Jon grumbled in complaint, but didn't move. Damian started tracing patterns on his chest, his fingers dancing across the exposed skin in a pattern that made sense only to him. Jon let him, content with how they were currently positioned. After about 20 minutes he finally made Damian get off, he had to get up and go do chores. Damian whined, and watched him get dressed, eyes following him like a loyal puppy. Jon got dressed in some work jeans and a flannel, he gave Damian a kiss before heading out to the barn. He came back in a half an hour later and found Damian still in bed. 

"Ew, I can smell you from here, go shower," Damian ordered, waving Jon away. 

Jon laughed and grabbed boxers and sweatpants before slipping out to take a shower. He washed himself quickly, getting out and drying off and pulling on his clothes. He walked back into his bedroom, hair still wet and his skin slightly damp from his rush to get back to Damian. Damian had rolled onto his stomach, still looking at his phone, he glanced up to see Jon walk in, his eyes snapping immediately to Jon's chest.

"Do I smell better now?"

"Well you don't smell offensively of cow so yes."

Jon laughed walking over, he sat down next to Damian, grabbing his own phone which had remained untouched the whole time Jon had been awake. Damian sat up, scooting closer to Jon, putting his phone to the side, he reached up, digging his hands into Jon's wet hair, running his fingers through, and twisting the strands around his digits. Jon glanced up from his phone, turning it off to pay attention to Damian.

"You hungry?"

"No," Damian's response was immediate. He knew what he wanted, and food wasn't it.

"Oh?" Jon asked, his eyes scanning down Damian's chest.

"Yeah….."

Jon grabbed Damian by the hips, pulling the man over into his lap, Damian made a small noise of surprise, raising an eyebrow at Jon.

"Forward aren't we?"

Jon's answer was to lean in and kiss Damian's jaw, then down onto his neck. "Don't tell me this isn't what you wanted."

"Oh no. This is. Very… ah- appealing." Damian's fingers dug into Jon's arms as he hit a sensitive spot.

"I'm glad."

Jon, now aware of how the spot right between Damian's collar bone and his neck was sensitive, focused his attention there, leaving a small love bite that steadily grew into a hickey. Damian didn't complain or resist, eyes closed as he enjoyed the attention. Jon let his hands slide down from Damian's hips onto his ass as he leaned up, catching him in a passionate, open mouthed kiss, pressing against each other, breaths coming in short gasps, tongues and teeth coming into play to tease the other.

"Fuck….. Damian?" Jon left the question unspoken, not wanting to pull away from Damian long enough to ask.

"Yes, God yes."

Jon turned and gently pushed Damian back onto his bed, adjust his own body so he could start kissing down Damian's chest. He could feel the scars and different injures as he went, but it didn't bother him much. Damian's hands dug into Jon's hair, eyes closed, back arched, greatly pleased by Jon's touches.

Jon ended up being very glad that his parents were gone. He was also surprised to find out that Damian Wayne, who seemed to be a very dominant, aggressive sort, was a bottom. Not that he minded much, just was surprised. Damian was currently laying on his right arm, head on his shoulder, hand splayed on his chest.

"So, we've saved each other's lives, made out, shared a bed several times, and now had sex. What the hell is our relationship," Jon recounted, humming as he thought.

Damian looked up at him, they were both exhausted, too tired to move and go downstairs to get food. Jon was aware of long scratches that were running down his back and arms, he'd have to make sure to keep a long sleeve shirt on for a few days until they healed, but that wouldn't be a problem.

"Guess I don't care. As long as I get to keep kissing you," Damian mumbled, his accent thick in his exhaustion

"Hmm. Boyfriends?"

"Sure."

That was easy. Jon smiled, picking his hand up and putting it over Damian's, squeezing his hand lightly. Damian smiled lazily, his eyes closed. They didn't get up until well after noon, and only then because Jon's stomach was rumbling loudly. Damian went to take a shower and Jon made his way downstairs, beginning to make some food to serve as their late brunch, as well as coffee. They were sat at the table eating when the front door pushed open, Jon was up in a flash, grabbing the revolver that they kept on top of the fridge, turning to the door.

"It's me!"

Jon relaxed immediately, releasing the cock of the gun and setting it back on the fridge, Damian watched with interest as Clark walked through the kitchen door, tailed by another man Damian didn't recognize, he had black hair and blue eyes and a similar face and body shape to both the Kent's. He was definitely a Kent. Both had blood on their clothes, and Clark had a busted lip.

"Didn't go well?" Jon asked, turning and grabbing mugs from the cabinet, fixing two cups of coffee and passing them to the two men.

"No."

"Did…."

"Luthor got away," the second man grumbled over his cup of coffee, his eyes landing on Damian.

"Well shit. I'll head out tomorrow and start digging I guess."

"He'll likely go underground, it'd be useless to start searching now," Damian commented, finishing his omelette.

The man raised an eyebrow at Damian.

"Kid, who's this?" He asked, glancing at Jon, who walked back to his seat at the table.

"My boyfriend, Damian Wayne."

".... Bruce's kid?"

"Boyfriend?"

Jon chuckled.

"Yes to both, Damian this is Connor Kent, my uncle."

"Uncle? He looks my age," Damian commented, leaning back in his seat, arms crossed.

"Adopted," Clark said, walking to the fridge to look inside.

"Oh."

Connor was watching Damian carefully, and Damian was unconcerned by this, watching Connor in return. Jon rolled his eyes, finishing his food quickly before taking Damian's plate and cleaning up.

"Alright, well I'm gonna go take Damian into town and show him around unless you have anything you need me to do."

"No, go, have fun. And I swear to God stay out of League business for the day," Clark said, waving his hand to dismiss Jon.

"Is this because you genuinely don't want me working or-"

"He doesn't want Wayne's kid sticking his nose in our business," Connor interrupted.

Clark didn't deny or confirm. Jon sighed but didn't respond, he recognized this behavior in Connor and knew it was just him being protective. Damian didn't seem offended so he left it alone, going to change into nicer clothes to go out. Damian followed him, rather then staying downstairs with his older, and apparently more aggressive relatives. He sat on Jon's bed, watching him get changed, smirking with satisfaction as he saw the red scratch marks running down his back. 

Jon pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, followed by a light hoodie, which he would most likely cover with his leather jacket. He slipped on and laced up his converse before turning to Damian, hands in his hoodie pockets. They looked at each other for a few minutes without saying anything.

"Your uncle doesn't seem to like me."

"He's protective, and he knows about what happened with our mission."

Damian hummed in response, snagging Jon's hand, they walked downstairs, Jon grabbed his keys, walking to another room Damian had yet to be in that appeared to be an office, and opening a closet. He crouched in front of a safe, punching in a code and pulling out one of his Crosman's. He shoved it in his waistband, closing and locking the safe before turning to Damian.

"Ready for our day out?"

Damian shrugged. "You're the one taking so long."

Jon laughed, snagging Damian's hand and leading him outside. He, as promised, spent the day showing his _boyfriend_ around town. He took Damian to his favorite restaurant for lunch, then they went on a walk around the park. They had literally just gotten back home and walked in the door when Clark grabbed Jon.

"We have an issue, I need you," Clark said, holding onto Jon's arm.

"Yeah, sure dad, let me grab my stuff."

Jon quickly kissed Damian, grinning sheepishly.

"I'll text you when I'm on my way back, sorry."

"It's fine, go do your work, I won't go anywhere."

Jon kissed Damian again before turning and running out the door, grabbing his work things from his truck and then hopping in Clark's car, pulling on his jacket and gloves.

"So what's up?"

He didn't get back until 10pm. Damian wasn't downstairs, which Jon assumed meant he was already in bed. Jon sneaked upstairs after putting his weapons up, there was soft light leaking out from under Jon's door, he smiled and put one hand on the door handle, his other behind his back, hiding something. He gently pushed the door open, peeking around it.

Damian was curled up in bed, Jon's bed, he was looking at his phone, but looked up when he heard the door open, a smile forming on his face when he saw Jon. He sat up, and Jon immediately realized he was wearing one of Jon's hoodies. He felt a jolt of something inside him, but pushed it aside as he slid through the door.

"Hey."

"What are you hiding?" Damian asked, eyebrow raised as he leaned back on his hands, watching Jon.

"Why do you think I'm hiding something?" Jon asked, walking closer.

Damian didn't respond, just watched Jon get closer. When he got close enough, Jon put a knee on the bed, leaning forwards and kissing Damian, who straightened, kissing Jon in return, arms going around Jon's neck. And then he grabbed whatever Jon was hiding and yanked it out of his hands.

"Hey!" Jon protested, pulling out of the kiss.

Damian smirked victoriously at him and then looked down, eyes widening as he saw what he had grabbed. A half a dozen of red roses. His eyes snapped from the roses up to Jon, stammering to figure out what to say.

"Surprise," Jon murmured, catching Damian's lips in another kiss. "Sorry for running out on you."

"Jon, you didn't have to do this, I know-"

"Yeah, well I wanted to. I'm a romantic sap like that."

Damian laughed, Jon took the roses and stuck them in a cup of water sitting on the bed side table. He kicked off his boots, followed by his shirt and jeans before walking over and crawling into bed next to Damian, who powered off his phone, scooting into Jon and tucking his head under Jon's chin.

"Did you solve the problem?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Any injuries?"

Jon yawned before answering. "Naw, baby, I'm good."

Damian didn't answer, or move. Jon immediately realized what he said, he pulled away slightly to look at Damian.

"I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"It's fine, Kent."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes…. I don't mind… Surprisingly."

Jon smiled lightly, he gently kissed Damian's forehead, pulled away slightly to turn off the light. He pulled Damian closer, dozing off within minutes.


	7. In Life and Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: blood, death, shooting, hospitals
> 
> Oops

Damian felt the bones crunch with the force of the twist, he felt the body go limp in his arms. Dully he felt something within him die at the realization he had just murdered, in cold blood. But he didn't care, rage and adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. He heard the sound of a body dropping before he had even let go, and his eyes snapped up at the yelling that followed.

Oh god there was so much blood.

Damian's eyes focused on the person who had fallen, and he felt like vomiting, he shoved the limp body to the side, going to rush forwards, but his feet were frozen to the ground. The person, his boyfriend, His Jon, was spasming slightly, blood pouring out of his gut. _ oh god he's dying. _ Damian saw people running towards Jon, one he briefly recognized, he heard them yelling, but he couldn't move. He was going to be sick.

His love was dying.

_ Thirty minutes prior _

Damian was having a great day. He had driven to Metropolis, having officially been sent on work related causes, but having also been given permission to spend the rest of the week there with Jon, his wonderful boyfriend. So he was basically getting payed to go to see his lover. Not that he'd complain. Usually Bruce would send Grayson or Drake on missions such as this, but Grayson was on his honeymoon and Drake was currently preoccupied with being in the hospital. So Damian had volunteered.

His task was simple, go discuss some financial issues and some changes to the trade between Gotham and Metropolis and then he'd be off the hook. He was told he had to go talk to Kara Danvers, a relative of Jon's, unsurprisingly, who handled the majority of the Kent families finances. And since he wasn't talking directly to a Kent, he had to go to their main office/compound, which, much like the League of Shadows was a warehouse smack in the middle of the city. Damian, dressed in black jeans and a gray button down, as well as a winter trench coat, parked a few blocks from the warehouse. He grabbed his normal weapons from his Camaro, a light pistol, and two throwing knives, shoved them into his pockets, and started walking.

It only took Damian about eight minutes to reach the warehouse, and only two minutes to get access through the gates. He walked in, calm and walking casually, hands swinging freely beside him. He, of course, knew he was safe in Metropolis, but he wasn't dumb enough to think he was invincible. A guard, a dumb looking thug who towered over Damian and was definitely on steroids, opened another door for him, letting the billionaire into the warehouse, where a second guard started leading him through the warehouse to Kara's office. The office was on the second floor, next to many other rooms that Damian only assumed was other offices. He wondered faintly if Jon had his own office. The guard knocked on the door before opening it.

"Mr. Wayne, ma'am."

"Thank you," a female voice called, and the guard motioned for Damian to enter.

He walked in, immediately noting the bright blue walls that starkly contrasted to the dull colors of the warehouse beyond the door. There were file cabinets along one wall, and bookshelves along another, a tv stood in one corner that had a live video feed from two security cameras that overlooked the main floor of the warehouse. In the very center of the room was a large oak desk, with two very expensive looking computer screen, and piles of paper. The sound of keyboard typing was filling the room. Behind the computer monitors was a blonde woman, her hair was curled, and bright blue eyes were focused on the monitors, hidden slightly by blocky glasses. She was wearing a sweater of some kind, and didn't seem terribly interested in Damian.

He didn't say anything, just stuck his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently, he knew how these things worked. Sure enough, after another few minutes, the woman hit a few buttons and then turned to Damian, adjusting her glasses and examining him. She didn't speak for a few minutes, and neither did Damian. Finally she stood, offering her hand to shake.

"Kara Danvers."

"Damian Wayne." Damian shook her hand, offering a polite smile.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you yet, Mr. Wayne."

"Just Damian is fine, and no, I'm sure you were expecting Grayson or Drake."

"Yes, I'm used to dealing with them."

"Well, Grayson was unavailable, due to being off on a honeymoon of some kind-"

"Mazel tov to him."

"-And Drake is in the hospital, not dying. So, Father sent me."

"Hmm, didn't think Jason would be a choice?"

Damian raised an eyebrow at her, she chuckled.

"No, probably not. Pull up a chair, Damian, and I'll see if I can fix your problem."

The talk went much smoother than Damian had expected. Kara was able to solve each of his problems and assured him she'd send an email to Clark with all of the things he'd need to approve.

"Though something tells me you'll be seeing Clark sooner than the rest of us."

She got another raised eyebrow.

"Alright, well pleasure doing business with you, Damian. Have a good weekend."

"You too, Ms. Danvers."

Damian stood and let himself out. He walked back down to the main floor, heading towards the exit, when he heard voices, one familiar. He paused, tilting his head for a moment before following the voices. They led him to a corridor which led into an open room, solid cement with a singular chair in the middle of the room, with a pretty beat up man sat on it. Damian knew what this was. Another thug jumped in front of him.

"Nothing to see here, go do your job," he grumbled.

"I don't work here, you cretin," Damian sneered back, his hand going to the knife in his pocket.

The voices inside the room stopped.

"Damian?"

"Kent!"

There were footsteps, and then behind the thug appeared the familiar face of Jonathan Kent, he waved the thug off and Damian started stepping forwards to kiss his boyfriend but stopped before he even moved. Jon was literally covered in blood, and he looked pissed, his eyes were burning with rage, but his expression softened slightly as he looked at Damian.

"Baby, I'm in the middle of something," he said softly.

"I noticed, I assume I will just meet you-"

"Hey!! Fuck! Jon!"

Jon spun on his heel, and past him Damian could see that the victim had jumped whoever had been helping Jon, taking their gun. He had it focused on Jon, but his hand was shaking violently.

"Alright, Smith, you got me, easy, just…. Put it down and-"

Jon lunged forwards before he even finished speaking, going to swat away the gun. Damian saw what was happening before it even happened, he felt his mouth open to warn Jon, but no words came out. The loud bang rang around the small room, causing Damian's ears to ring, he had closed his eyes when he heard the gunshot, but opened them just in time to see Jon stagger back, he didn't look at Damian, but Damian could see the blood pouring out of him. The man with the gun stared at Jon in horror before spinning and running towards the door, no one tried to stop him, both the thug and Jon's partner running to help Jon.

But the man had made a very grave mistake, and Damian, eyes shifting from his boyfriend to this lowlife welp, was now seeing red. He didn't even speak, just pulled out his gun, shooting the man in the knee before he even reached the doorway. The man collapsed, screaming in pain. Damian stepped forwards, grabbing the man, positioning his hands without even thinking about it and _crunch_. He felt the body go limp, twitching a few times, and then there was the solid thud of a body hitting the ground, but that wasn't right, Damian still had the man's head in his hands. He looked up, suddenly feeling sick. He had just murdered a man. Killed him for revenge. His eyes focused in on the person who had collapsed, ears tuning into the yelling.

Oh god, there was so much blood.

Damian was going to vomit. He dropped the dead body, staring in horror as Jon, who was now unconscious, blood pouring out of his stomach, twitched slightly. _Oh god he's dying._

Someone pushed past him, a man Damian recognized faintly, he slid to a stop beside Jon, ripping his hoodie off and pressing it to Jon's stomach, he was barking orders to the other's, who jumped up to follow whatever he had said. The man looked up at Damian and said something.

"WAYNE!" The scream pierced through Damian's sickened daze. He snapped his eyes to the man, Connor.

"Get the fuck over here and help me, dammit! Do you want him to die."

Damian stepped over the dead body, walking to Connor, who was still applying pressure to Jon's stomach.

"Here, take this, we're taking him to the hospital."

Damian put his hands over Connor's and as soon as he had pulled away, Damian had pressure on the injury. Soon the two men returned with a stretcher and put Jon on it, carrying him to a van, Damian ran along beside them. Things started happening in a blur. The ride to the hospital, watching nurses rush around Jon and then take him straight back to emergency operation. Damian sat numbly down in a chair, staring at his bloody hands in shock. Oh god what had he done.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Damian dragged his eyes up to a nurse who was stood in front of him, a sympathetic look on her face.

"If you come with me, we'll get you cleaned up."

Damian nodded and stood, following her back through the ER doors. She led him into what he assumed was the washroom, instructing him what soaps and such to use to scrub the blood off. She fetched him a pair of scrubs to wear, as his clothes had been soaked with blood. And graciously she didn't ask any questions about the weapons. She must've known who Jon was. After Damian was suitably washed up, she took him back out to the waiting room and gave him a warm blanket before leaving him to his shock.

Connor came and sat beside Damian, neither speaking, just both staring at the floor. A few minutes passed and Clark was flying through the doors, looking panicked. He spotted the two and rushed over, crouching in front of Connor.

"What happened?!" He exclaimed, frantically grabbing Connor's knee to pull his attention.

"Ask him." Connor jerked his head at Damian.

Clark looked over at the Gothamite, waiting for him to speak. Damian didn't react, Clark reached over and lightly smacked his knee to get his attention.

"Jon got shot."

"I know that, Damian. Tell me what happened!"

Damian sighed and began explaining, from leaving his meeting with Kara, to finding Jon, to the shooting. He stopped before he got to the point where he had mercilessly snapped the man's neck. Connor was giving him a look that had so many layers of hate that Damian avidly avoided his eyes, looking at Clark.

"What about Smith? Did he get away?"

Damian shook his head.

"Then what happened to him?..... Damian, answer me!"

"The brat snapped his neck," Connor said, louder then necessary, several patrons of the hospital looked over in shock and horror.

Clark sighed and rubbed his face, shaking his head, a small, broken laugh came out of him.

"Fuck. This can't be happening."

"Clark-"

"No! Fuck!" Clark snapped at Connor, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Connor retracted the hand he had been about to put on Clark's shoulder. He shot a dirty look at Damian, one full of blame and hate. _He thinks this is my fault… isn't it though? I distracted Jon from his job…._

"I'm sorry, Clark."

Clarks eyes snapped to Damian, eyebrow raised.

"If I hadn't distracted him…… I should've minded my own business and gone to wait for him like we had previously agreed. It's my fault."

"Yeah, it is, you piece of shit, if my nephew dies because of you, I'm gonna-"

"Enough, Connor," Clark's order shut Connor up immediately, but he glared daggers at Damian.

"It isn't your fault, Damian, you didn't pull the trigger."

Clark stood and sat in a chair across from them. No one moved, no one talked. They didn't pull out phones or watch the TV's to distract themselves. They just…. Sat there. Minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Lois joined them eventually, looking like she was about to burst into tears at any moment. They were there for so long, that they got escorted from the ER waiting room to a more private waiting room generally reserved for out-patient surgeries. A doctor finally came into the room at 8pm, looking absolutely exhausted, he had a solemn look, and Damian felt that sick feeling rising in his stomach, he covered his mouth.

"No," he whispered, waiting for the doctor to say the words he feared the most.

"It was touch and go for a while. He pulled through for now, but he's in ICU, he lost a lot of blood and he's lucky that the bullet wasn't anywhere else, it just barely missed some very major organs, only time will tell if he makes it."

A sigh of relief escaped the whole room.

"If you would like to move up to the third floor, I can take two of you to visit him. He's only allowed a maximum of two visitors at a time, and usual hours for the ICU are 8am to 8pm, but I'll tell the nurses to make an exception for today."

The Kent's stood and started grabbing their things, Damian sat frozen in his chair. Lois waved the men out of the room, turning to Damian.

"Damian, are you gonna sit there on your ass and feel sorry for yourself, or are you gonna get up and go visit our boy? None of this is your fault, and I can tell you that you will be one of the first people he will ask for when he wakes up."

Damian didn't move.

"Wayne, get the fuck up!" Lois snapped, Damian was brought to attention by her order.

He jumped up and followed Lois out of the room, joining the others by the elevator. Connor had now graduated to refusing to look at Damian. And Damian, now relaxed as his brain processed that Jon was okay, decided he didn't give a shit what Connor thought. They were led to a family waiting room on the third floor, where Connor and Damian were to wait while Lois and Clark went and saw their son. There was an elderly man and a middle aged woman sitting together on the other side of the room, but besides a few curious glances, they left the two men alone.

Damian's body was slowly relaxing, relief filling him and taking over, pushing out the tense refusal to process or move. He was perfectly okay with not talking with Connor, and was actually quite relieved when Bruce called him, he walked out of the waiting room to take the call, not knowing what his father wished to discuss.

"Father."

"Damian. Is everything okay? You usually text after you complete work tasks."

"Oh, yes… Sorry. I solved things with Kara. She was going to have Clark approve somethings and then set them into motion."

"Just get so caught up with Jon that you forgot to text?" Bruce asked with a laugh.

"Ah…. About that…." Damian paused as a nurse walked past.

"Damian?" Bruce's light hearted tone shifted to concerned.

"Jon's in the ICU…. He took a shot to the gut."

"Jesus Christ! Is he okay?!"

"He's stable, but they said only time can tell at this stage."

"Fuck. Are you at the hospital?"

"Yeah, Lois and Clark are visiting him currently."

"God. Okay… shit, well stay as long as you need to, Damian."

"Thank you."

"How are you?"

"I'm…. Okay. I had a minor incident when Jon got shot and uh…. Well I snapped the shooters neck."

Bruce was silent.

"Yeah, I know."

"We'll talk about that when you come home. Go be with your boy, Damian."

"Okay."

Faintly he heard Selina's voice yell "I love you!"

"I love you too, mom," Damian said with a laugh before hanging up.

He was just walking back to the waiting room when Clark walked up.

"Lois is still in there, but go see him."

Damian nodded and began to walk away. Clark snagged his wrist, pulling him back around.

"Damian, don't let Connor get to you. Neither Lois or I blame you. It wasn't your fault."

"Thank you," Damian said, nodding again.

Clark let Damian walk away. It wasn't hard to find Jon's ICU room, Lois was sat on a chair next to Jon's bed, looking totally exhausted. Damian sighed and pushed open the door, walking into the dim room. Jon was incredibly pale. He was partially sat up, but was obviously asleep, an oxygen tube under his nose. He was hooked up to both an IV and a blood bag, but he looked peaceful as he slept, eyes closed, head tilted to the side. Lois looked up as Damian walked in, she stood and walked out of the room, giving Damian privacy, which he was secretly grateful for. He walked over, sitting on the side of Jon's bed and taking his cold hand.

"Jon, you gave me quite a fright," he said softly, watching Jon's face even though he knew he wouldn't react. "I really thought I was gonna lose you…. God I don't know what I would've done. You mean so much to me, more than I think you'll ever understand."

Damian went silent for a minute, looking at Jon's pale sleeping face, he had been cleaned up, all blood absent from his pale skin. Damian reached out and ran his thumb down the scar that marred Jon's perfect face. He was so cold. Damian felt tears welling up in his eyes, he reached up to wipe them away, but more came. He sat there in dull shock as he cried. He hadn't cried in years. He hadn't cried since Ra's tortured him for trying to escape the first time, and even then it was a much different pain. A different crying. This…. Was worse. Damian's heart ached, his throat seized up until no words would come out, and there was an overall sense of helplessness. 

Damian squeezed Jon's hand as he cried harder, the tears spilling down his cheek and dripping off his face, landing on his shirt. His brothers would never let him hear the end of it if any of them had been here to witness Damian bawling like a baby, gentle sobs escaping him and causing his body to shake, but it didn't matter. He sat there crying for nearly five minutes before finally tears stopped coming, and a numbing sense of calm washed over him. Damian leaned forwards, pressing a gentle kiss to Jon's cheek and squeezing his hand.

"Come back to me, beloved," he practically begged. He swallowed, the next words slipping out of him, barely audible. "I love you."

Damian sat there for a few moments before getting up. He kissed Jon's forehead and turned, walking out the door without another word. He found Lois with Clark and Connor. The moment he walked into the room, Lois stood up, walking over, a small silver key in her palm.

"Spend as long as you need at our house," she said softly, figuring Damian wouldn't want to stay in the hospital any longer.

She was right. Damian took the key with a nod. He grabbed his coat and turned, walking away. From the hospital, he caught a cab to where he had parked his car, getting in and driving to the Kent's house, everything happening in a blur. He suddenly found himself standing in Jon's room. His bag on the floor by the door. With a sigh, he kicked off his shoes, going to get changed out of the scrubs he had been given. Only he didn't get his own clothes. He dug through Jon's closet, finding a pair of the man's sweatpants, pulling that and one of his hoodies on. Everything in the room just smelled so much of Jon, and it was incredibly comforting. Damian made his way downstairs, getting himself an apple to serve as his dinner and then disappearing back upstairs, cocooning himself into Jon's blankets.

The next morning when he woke up, still buried in his nest of pillows and blankets, he had this peaceful moment where everything had been a dream, and the thing pressed against his back wasn't pillows, but his boyfriend, safe and sound. But then reality came crashing in on him like an ocean wave, relentless and unforgiving, as painful as drowning.


	8. We Always Come Back to Each Other

Damian took Bruce's permission to stay and ran with it. It had been nearly a week and he hadn't left Metropolis once, staying with the Kent's. And if he wasn't at their farmhouse, he was at the hospital with Jon. He had been moved out of the ICU after two days when he had become stable, but he still hadn't woken up for longer than an hour at a time, and even when he did wake up, he was drowsy and confused. Damian had yet to be there when Jon woke up, but they were supposed to call him the next time. When Damian wasn't at the Kent's or at the hospital, he often found himself at the warehouse, having been befriended by one of Jon's close friends, a red haired man named Bart Allen, with apparently a distant relation to Barry Allen. Bart seemed to have no end of energy, and, despite Bart's stupid slang like "crash" and "mode", Damian didn't actually mind the man.

Damian missed Jon. A lot. The longer he stayed in Metropolis, the more he realized how hostile and dark the town really was. Sure, Lois and Clark were friendly as always, and Bart had that infectious energy, but without Jon by his side, Damian could feel some of the different mafia workers glaring at him. Connor still hadn't backed down, despite Clark having yelled at him multiple times. So Jon's bright energy and protective shield was greatly missed. As was so many other things about Jon. 

Damian had finally convinced Lois to let him stay a night with Jon, that he was more then capable of watching over Jon, and that yes he would call if absolutely anything happened. So here he was, sitting on the pullout sofa bed, tapping away at his laptop, it was 2am, but he still wasn't tired. Not at all. He was severely depressed and emotionally exhausted, and answering business emails seemed like the best thing to do to distract himself. Of course he had them all set to actually send in the morning, he couldn't have people thinking he was a maniac or anything. Or rather, he couldn't have anymore people thinking that. 

Maya was still awake, texting him non stop about the reality TV show she was watching, just trying to get a response from Damian. She meant well, and deep down Damian appreciated it, but he couldn't find energy to respond. He had brought flowers for Jon's room, much like everyone who had ever met Jon, but Damian had brought white roses, something Damian had discovered was that Jon likes white roses, so he had bought some for when the man woke up.

He was so busy straightening out an Excel sheet some lowlife in Wayne Industries had messed up that he didn't even notice the movement coming from Jon. Or if he did, he chalked it up to Jon's normal shifting in his sleep that they had all come to dismiss and ignore. He didn't notice Jon blinking his eyes open, and in the dim light, looking around until he spotted Damian, face illuminated by his laptop screen. He didn't see how Jon stared at him with an indescribable expression for nearly five minutes. He did notice however, when out of the blue, four words were spoken.

"I love you too."

Damian's head shot up, eyes going straight to Jon and then going wide. His mouth fell open and a hand went up to cover it as he stared at Jon in shock.

"J-jon?"

Jon smiled slightly, lifting a hand and waving it. Damian all but threw his laptop to the side, jumping up and crossing the short distance between Jon's bed and the sofa quickly. He stared at Jon in shock, reaching his hand out and slipping his finger in between Jon's, who gently squeezed his hand. Damian almost broke down crying again.

"Oh my God, you're awake," he whispered.

"I love you too, Damian."

"What?" Damian asked, confused why those were Jon's first words to him, not that he minded, in fact a warm feeling started spreading through him.

"I guess maybe I dreamed it, but I swear I remember waking up and hearing you tell me that you loved me."

Damian smiled slightly. "That's entirely possible, I've been saying it a lot recently."

Jon smiled back, his eyes scanning over Damian's face, he tugged on Damian until the man sat down beside him.

"How long have I been out?"

"Almost a week…."

"Oh….. I remember waking up a few times, but I don't remember anything that happened when I did…."

Damian nodded, that seemed correct with what Lois had said. He was still smiling, but he couldn't help it. Jon was awake, and actually talking to him.

"Can I have something to drink?"

Damian jumped up and grabbed his water bottle, giving it to the man, who took a couple cautious drinks. Jon looked much better than the day he had made it out of surgery, still rather pale, but he didn't look like death warmed over either.

"What happened?" Jon asked as he handed Damian his water bottle back.

"What?"

"What happened to me? It's all kinda blurry. I remember you coming over, and then all I remember is pain."

Damian stared at him in shock.

"I told you a long time ago, my brain blocks out things like this."

Damian sighed and started explaining everything that happened, Jon listened attentively, asking a few questions, but for the most part, let Damian explain in peace.

"Dames, you don't blame yourself for this, right?"

Damian opened his mouth to respond, but didn't, glancing away from Jon.

"Dames……"

Damian gave a small shrug, Jon sighed and grabbed Damian's hand.

"Baby, it's not your fault, don't do that to yourself. I'm fine."

"I know, Jon. I know."

Jon pulled the oxygen tube off his nose and then grabbed Damian's shirt, a flannel he faintly recognized as his, and pulled him into a kiss. Damian eagerly, yet cautiously kissed him, not wanting to accidentally hurt his boyfriend. Jon kissed him for a bit before pulling back just enough that he could talk.

"Now, can you fetch me the nurse because I feel like I have a knife in my gut."

Damian laughed, squeezing Jon's arm. "You should have led with that, dork."

He stood, walking out the door and down to the nurses station, spotting Jon's nurse sitting at a computer, she looked up and smiled at Damian.

"Can I help you, Mr. Wayne?"

"Uh, no. But Jon is awake and says he's in pain."

The nurse's eyes widened, she nodded, but picked up a phone, Damian watched as she called someone, presumably Jon's doctor and talked to him for a moment. She hung up after a minute and started walking towards Jon's room, Damian followed her. When she got there, she talked with Jon for a bit to figure out where his pain was located before giving him some medicine. She did some other tests to see how lucid Jon was before telling him some rules about moving and eating and then leaving them.

"Now that she's mentioned it, I am pretty hungry…"

Damian chuckled, grabbing the hospital menu and phone and leaving Jon to order, telling him he had to go call his parents, something he wasn't really looking forwards to. Selfishly, he didn't want to tell them because he wanted to keep Jon to himself, but he also knew they couldn't come to the hospital until morning. He stepped out of the room after giving Jon a kiss on the forehead, which he received with a happy grin. It took four rings before Clark picked up, a groggy "hello?" echoing through the speaker.

"Clark, its Damian."

"I gathered that from the caller ID. Is everything okay? Is Jon okay?"

"Yeah, actually he's great. He woke up maybe a half an hour ago?"

There was a pause. "Really?!"

"Yeah, he's ordering pudding or something currently."

"Oh god, that's fantastic, we'll be there in the morning!"

"Alright."

Damian hung up before Clark could badger him for details. He shoved his phone in his pocket and turned to walk back into Jon's room, following right behind a nurse who was delivering a bowl of soup for Jon. Damian sat down, saving his Excel document and shutting his laptop off, looking up at Jon who was hungrily inhaling his soup. Damian didn't speak, a sense of calm coming over him, watching Jon, watching him move and breathe, and just the undeniable proof that Jon was okay and most importantly _alive_.

"Hey, Dames. You got this funny look." Jon set his bowl to the side, turning to look at Damian.

"What?"

"I don't know, you just…. Don't look like you normally do." Jon, now that he had Damian's attention, scooted over and patted the bed beside him.

"What do I look like then?"

Damian stood and walked over to Jon, sitting beside him, and then when Jon put an arm around him, he shifted, letting Jon pull him tight against his side so they were partially laying down, his head on Jon's shoulder, arm loosely draped around Jon's waist.

"I don't know…. Content?"

Damian raised an eyebrow, looking up at his boyfriend.

"That's an unusual look?"

"Yeah. You usually are on edge about something, or working. You usually looked stressed, but you just look happy now."

"Well, I guess I am. You're okay, and that's all I could want right now."

Jon reached up and tilted Damian's head up, kissing him. Damian shifted positions so Jon wasn't straining so much, gently kissing him. After a moment, they returned to just cuddling, Jon turned the tv on at some point, finding a late night talk show and keeping the volume low. After nearly ten minutes, Jon realized Damian had fallen asleep, he smiled, pulling his blankets up over his sleeping boyfriend, holding him close and letting him sleep.

The next morning, when Lois and Clark walked into Jon's hospital room, they were both asleep, still holding onto each other. Lois smiled at Clark, and walked over, gently putting a hand on Jon's shoulder, who jerked slightly, but opened his eyes, looking up at Lois, he grinned, and picked his hand up, shushing them with a finger to his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but I hope it was a sweet enough ending!!
> 
> Thanks for reading, feel free to lmk how you felt, and kudos are always appreciated!!
> 
> (Also I wrote this before semester started, and now I sympathize with Damian, Excel sheets are so painful)

**Author's Note:**

> Some chapters are going to be shorter then others, that's just how I had to break them up for the flow of the story. I hope you guys enjoy it!!!


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